Things a Mama Don't Know
by blackwater11
Summary: Margaret James reflects on the positive changes in her son all thanks to his evolving relationship with a cheeky cockney medic. Set in the same universe as A Request this story explores Molly's evolving relationship with Charles and the James family.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This is a new idea i'm trying out. Let me know what you think. Please R&R **

It's Alright Ma (I'm Only Bleeding) 

Margaret James lent wearily against the door frame and stood watching her son shift uncomfortably in his sleep. The thin shaft of moonlight that filtered into the darkened room illuminated his pale face, highlighting the dark circles under his eyes. His face was creased with tension, his eyes moving rapidly beneath his closed eye lids as thin beads of sweat begin to form on his forehead. Shuffling quietly into the room and gently perched on the edge of his bed, careful not to jostle his injured leg. Charles began mumbling inaudibly under his breath as his head thrashed from side to side. She caught the words Smurf, Molly and I'm sorry. Margaret reached out to caress his forehead, all the while whispering soothing words into his ear like she used to do after he had suffered a nightmare when he was younger. Gradually his tense muscles relaxed and Margaret finally allowed herself to succumb to her tears.

Charles had been home from the hospital for nearly two weeks and the road to recovery was only just beginning as he adapts back into civilian life, at least for the moment. Margaret knew she needed to remain strong if she was going to help Charles, and the rest of the family, through this difficult transition period. But if there was one thing Margaret James knew how to do well, it was cope. Charles and Richard often joked that Margaret was the glue that held their family together. It was rare there wasn't a problem she couldn't solve or a situation she couldn't fix. She was renowned for being calm, practical and unflappable under pressure and was always ready for the next challenge life threw at her. She just wished she could fix this. Her son's life was in pieces and whilst she so desperately wanted to glue the pieces back together for him, she knew her only option was to sit back and hand him the paint brush. How Charles chose to glue his life back together was his decision and his alone. She would support him no matter what.

When Charles had first announced shortly after leaving school that he intended to join the Army her heart had dropped. She had pleaded with him to consider doing a degree first just in case needed a backup plan if the Army didn't work out. Although reluctant, Charles eventually agreed and chose to study English Literature at Cambridge. Whist at university Charles had met and fallen for Rebecca and Margaret had secretly hoped that Charles would forget about joining the Army and settle down. If anything, it had only seemed to strengthen his resolve to join up and he had enrolled on the officer fast track not long after he graduated. From then on he lived and breathed the Army. Margaret had no choice but to accept his choices and learn how to cope. After nearly a decade in service and enduring four tours of Afghanistan she had become accustomed to the endless cycle of fear and dread her life had become. She had learnt to live with the constant bubble of fear that had taken residence in her chest, choosing to lock away the anxiety and it all in a little box under the stairs. Some days she felt her life was a roller coaster of emotions; as though she was on a never-ending merry go round left to wonder when she could get off and place her feet back on solid ground.

The last few years had had a profound effect on Charles. His experiences in Afghanistan had changed him. It was only now that Margaret had realised just how much. Although she was proud of his achievements as he swiftly advanced up the ranks, Margaret couldn't help but feel that over the years the Army had slowly chipped away at her boy piece by piece until she barely recognised him. His separation from Rebecca followed shortly after by the loss one of his men had certainly been one of the darkest chapters in Charles' life. For some reason he felt he had failed at his marriage and failed to do his job properly by not bringing that private home alive. Charles had been wracked with guilt and felt like a failure. Never mind the fact that he had bravely crawled 200 metres on his belly under enemy fire to bring the body of Private Smith back safely to his family. Both incidences had taught Charles a valuable life lesson. Never get emotionally involved. And he hadn't since. It was as though he was sleepwalking through his own life; only ever feeling alive when out in theatre. He became so serious and distant, keeping everyone, even family, at arm's length. It was as if Charles had built a wall around himself to prevent anyone from getting close to him; or he to them. He was practically unreachable.

But then something changed. She couldn't pinpoint who or what was responsible for the shift but Charles seemed lighter, more optimistic about the future since he had begun rehab. At first Margaret had put it down to Charles having a near death experience and not wanting to waste the second chance he had been given. But judging by the number of phone calls and letters he had been receiving lately, there was definitely more to the story. Although reluctant to talk about the events that led to him getting shot, all Charles would say was that he was only alive thanks to the quick actions of his medic. Margaret didn't miss the emphasis when Charles said 'my' medic, nor the way his eyes lit up whenever when he talked about her. Margaret had even caught him fighting the urge to smile and laugh every time he read one of her texts or emails. Oh yes, Margaret had her son back alright and it was all thanks to a cheeky Cockney medic named Molly Dawes. Margaret couldn't wait to see how this chapter played out.


	2. The Quiet things No One Ever Knows

The Quiet Things That No One Ever Knows 

Margaret James was sat on the patio steps sipping from a glass of wine and reading a book. It was nice to be home. As much as she loved travelling sometimes you couldn't beat being at home. Despite the late hour, the James family had all gravitated to the garden leaving doors and windows thrown wide as they tried to entice the non-existent breeze into the house. As the last rays of the July sun dipped below the horizon, the sky was left awash with colour. It reminded Margaret of when Charles used to paint as a child. He'd dip his paint brush in any paint pot within reach, never caring when contrasting colours would merge together on the page to create varying shades and tones. As her thoughts drifted to her son her eyes naturally strayed from her page, gravitated towards where he sat dozing on the gently swaying porch swing. Despite his injuries he appeared relaxed and dare she say it almost content, as he used his good leg to push the swing back and forth gently. The stuffy, oppressive heat of the July evening had made sleeping nigh impossible, never mind having to deal with flashbacks, nightmares and excruciating pain.

"You're staring again."

Margaret jumped as her son's voice filled the silence. When Margaret glanced back at Charles his eyes were open and his lip twitched as he fought a smirk. Margaret huffed at being caught out and sent her son a withering glare. "I don't know what you're talking about Charles. I've been sat here reading my book and minding my own business." Charles raised an eyebrow and chuckled, clearly not believing her.

"So is that why you've been reading the same page for nearly 15 minutes then?" He asked cheekily as he watched his mother blush. He never tired of winding her up, she made it far too easy. His phone buzzed and he glanced worriedly at the screen. Who on earth was texting him at this late hour? "Everything alright?" Margaret enquired softly.

"Humm?" Distracted by the text Charles looked up meeting his Mother's inquisitive gaze. Margaret watched his expression shift from worried to ecstatic to completely blank in a matter of seconds. Margaret shook her head ruefully before asking slyly, "Did Molly say how she was settling in back home when you saw her this week?"

"Molly's struggling a bit if I'm honest. She says she can't seem to settle or sit still. I think she might be having nightmares too. But Molly being Molly refuses to talk about it. Stubborn mare!"

Margaret smiled triumphantly to herself. Since his injuries Charles' had been rather cagey about talking about what happened in Afghan. His letters home had been filled with stories of Bastian and life in the Army. He'd alluded to a medic in his letters on occasion, but nothing obvious that would lead anyone to believe their relationship had progressed to anything beyond Captain and Private. It wasn't until Margaret had received a phone call from Rebecca that she had even discovered the name of the woman who had saved her son's life. Rebecca had briefed Margaret on the details of their brief encounter and shared her suspicions that there was something more going on. Margaret had smiled when Rebecca described how Molly had awkwardly downplayed her involvement in saving Charles' life, instead choosing to make light of the situation by making a joke that made Sam laugh. Judging by the slight panicked look her son was now sporting, it was clear he realised that he had said too much. He had been played. By his mother no less.

"If you're really serious about resigning your commission sweetheart, might I suggest you forego the career as a poker player. You always were an abysmal liar. Not to mention, your poker face is shite. You may have aquired many talents over the years my son, but unfortunately, you never quite mastered the art of subtlety. I knew there had to be a reason why you suggested our little impromptu get away to Lake Garda so soon after your recovery. She came to see you didn't she? You just wanted us out the way." Charles chuckled at his mother. Although she appeared prim and proper, few knew that underneath the posh exterior Margaret James was a shrewd woman who missed nothing. She also had a tendency to swear too much and speak the first thing that came to mind; consequences be damned. With Margaret what you see is what you get.

"I walked in to that one didn't I?" Margaret stood up and walked to join her son on the swing.

"Indeed you did my boy. So tell me about her." At Charles' surprised look Margaret continued. "Don't look at me like that. We haven't seen you this animated about someone in…well a long time. It's obvious that there is more going on here. She's clearly someone important to you."

"She is. If I'm honest I'm not entirely sure how it happened. We didn't get off to the best start. When I first met her on the tarmac at Brize I thought she was this cheeky, inexperienced cockney who was in way out of her depth. I was pissed at having a replacement so late in the game and I took it out on her the second she opened her mouth. I embarrassed her several times in front of the lads, I even threatened to lob her out the plane. I readily admit I thought she was a bad apple who would hold the platoon back. A regular class clown. I'm ashamed to admit I didn't think she'd be able to cut it. I should have been more supportive."

"Charles James I thought I raised you to be a gentleman!" Charles winced as his mum swiped him across the back of the head.

"Ow!"

"Well what did you expect? It's a wonder how she fell for you if you were such a tool." Charles choked and stared at his mum in awe. "Tool? Seriously? Mum where do you come up with this stuff?" Margaret shook her head with a grin. "What made you change your mind about Molly?" Charles' soft smile told her he had heard her question but the faraway, almost wistful, look in his eye showed he was a thousand miles away.

"She did. Early in the tour she came to me with concerns about Smurfs state of mind. When I questioned Smurf further, he took it the wrong way and he and the lads sent her to Coventry. If I learnt anything about Molly on that tour it's that she's a survivor. Not to mention she's fiercely loyal. When the lads froze her out she didn't say anything. She never complained about how they treated her. She refused to let them see how hurt she truly was. It never really occurred to me until then just how isolating and lonely being a medic and the sole female in the platoon could be. But in a way it was the making of Molly. She may appear to have a backbone made of steel but underneath she's a softy. She set out to prove everyone, including me wrong. When Smurf got himself shot she risked her own life to save him. She could have been popped any second by the enemy but that didn't stop her being fucking awesome as she stopped him bleeding out."

"Is that why you recommended her for the MC?" Charles nodded.

"She deserved it mum. What she did was amazing. Several times she risked her life to help others without thinking about herself. She deserves all the praise she's getting and more. The problem is, the only person who doesn't think she deserves it is Molly. She sees it as her doing her job."

"I take it your taking steps to change that?" Charles sighed wearily, suddenly looking tired.

"I'm damn well going to try. Though she doesn't make it easy Mum. Sometimes I want to shake her until she sees how beautiful and intelligent she truly is. I know it's not her fault. She had a tough upbringing; having to look out for herself and her siblings from a young age. She didn't grow up like I did mum. She never had anybody in her life she could depend on, someone to encourage her to be better, to strive for more. Molly's had years of being told she's not good enough, that she doesn't deserve more from life. I just hope that over time I'm able to help her change her opinion of herself. Sometimes I forget that she's barely twenty. She's seen and experienced far too much for someone so young. It's like she's an old soul."

"You've always said that life is down to chance. Luck. Maybe Molly had to go through all of that hardship for her to get to where she is now. Our choices and actions define us and shape the people we become. If Molly had chosen a different path you two wouldn't have met and she wouldn't have saved your life. I'll always be grateful she came into your life, no matter what happens." Margaret eyed her son with a smile as she let her words sink in. "So are you deliberately avoiding sharing how you two got together?"

Charles rolled his eyes. He'd forgotten his mother' love of gossip. She was enjoying this far too much in his opinion. But he knew if he didn't say anything, he'd never hear the end of it.

"It was kind of slow burning. It started with us just sharing banter back and forth as she treated my blisters. Gradually I found myself saying and doing things just to get her to smile or laugh. I'd initiate conversations just so I could listen to her butcher the English language with her random cockney and stories from home. Dawesisms we called them. I don't know how but she somehow managed to sneak her way past my defences and into my heart before I realised it. It wasn't until I nearly lost her that I realised how much she meant to me."

"What do you mean lost her? Was she hurt?" Margaret looked on in concern. She hadn't expected this new development. As Charles became increasingly uncomfortable, the penny slowly dropped.

"Oh Charles. You didn't tell her did you?" Charles shook his head with a sigh.

"Let's just say that wasn't my finest hour. I wanted to tell her about Rebecca and Sam but the moment never came up. We'd agreed to wait out until we got home. I had hoped to explain the whole situation properly. Before I could we got interrupted and she ended up hearing about it from someone else." Charles rubbed his face wearily as he heard his mother's soft gasp. "I know, shit timing. She was furious. She assumed I had deliberately deceived her and refused to speak to me. I hurt her mum. I swear I'll never forget the look on her face. Then we got deployed on a mission and thought we'd been ambushed. There was this deafening boom and I honestly thought it was the end. It was as if my whole world flashed before my eyes. All I could see was her face. I realised there and then that I wanted her to be the last face I saw."

Margaret stared in shock as the magnitude of her son's confession hit home. Having a son on the front line meant there was every possibility that he might not come home. To confess that he had wanted Molly to be the last thing he saw in this world and not anyone else, showed just how deep their connection truly was. This wasn't just an infatuation or hero worship. It ran so much deeper. Her son was falling head over heels.

"You love her." It wasn't a question.

"I do."

"So what's next for the two of you?"

Charles sighed. "I don't know if I'm honest. The army is all I've ever known, all I've ever wanted. Molly thinks I should wait until I've completed my rehab before making any rash decisions regarding my commission. She thinks I'm doing it out of guilt."

"Well are you?" Charles closed his eyes in thought. They both sat in silence and Margaret was beginning to think her son wouldn't answer. When his soft voice broke the silence she jumped for the second time that night.

"If I'm being entirely honest I'm tired. I've spent nearly a decade living out of a burgen. I've done four tours. Even if I am declared fit I'm not entirely sure I want to go back to active duty. Too much has changed for me. I used to be able to follow orders and trust those higher in the chain of command to see the bigger picture. Molly taught me that we need to fix the small things to help fix the bigger things. For the first time I began to question what our role in Afghan was and why we were there. I've seen Afghan in a whole new light thanks to Molly. I'm not sure I can go back on that now. I'm not the same soldier I was before this tour. I also can't be stuff behind a desk either. It'll do my nut in!"

Margaret couldn't help but laugh. It appeared Molly was influencing her son in more ways than one. She couldn't deny she was secretly pleased he was thinking of leaving the army. She wasn't sure if she would survive him doing another tour. "You do know that whatever you decide, your father and I will support you. We love you know matter what." Charles let out a sigh of relief.

"Molly said exactly the same thing."

"Smart girl, your Molly. What's next for her?" Charles couldn't help but grin as he divulged Molly's plans.

"She's busy planning a trip to Las Vegas. Something about putting Smurfs money on red on the roulette table. Who knows what trouble those two are concocting? Besides that, she's considering going back to Afghan to help train medics. I think she should go. She's only part way through a journey. She's still looking for something, a purpose in life I guess. I'll be damned if I'm going to let her sit back and waste her talents. She has the potential to go far if she puts her mind to it. She could do so much good out there, help so many people. It's like I said earlier. We need to fix the small things so the whole huge Afghanistan can work. This is Molly's chance to do that. She'll be helping them build a better Afghanistan one small cog at a time. I'll not be the one to stand in the way of that."

Margaret patted her son's hand and stood. After kissing her son goodnight she turned to enter the house. With each step the bubble of anxiety that had resided in her chest for so long slowly lifted. For the first time in nearly a decade Margaret could take a deep breath, as she exhaled her shoulders relaxed and all her anxieties and worries seemed to melt away. No matter what happened she knew her son was going to be ok. Molly would make sure of it.

A/N: Sorry for the delay. Life has been crazy. Please R&R


	3. The Hero Dies in This One

The Hero Dies in This One

There are moments in our lives we find ourselves at a crossroads; left afraid and confused without a roadmap. The choices we make in those moments can define who we become. Of course, when we come face to face with the unknown, our first instinct is to turn around and go back. Fight or flight. But sometimes we have to overcome our fear and push on unit we find something better. It's only when we are being tested that we truly discover who we are. And it's only when we are tested that you can discover who you can be. We just have to look beyond the heartache and fear of what life throws at us. (One Tree Hill)

Margaret James wrung her hands anxiously as she paced back and forth across the drawing room. Her petite body was rigid with tension, her face a picture of anguish. She winced as a series of loud crashes, followed by a volley of colourful cursing could be heard in the kitchen. She just hoped it wasn't her best china.

"Margaret will you sit down, you're wearing a hole in the rug!" Margaret jumped as an exasperated Richard, who had been watching her pace restlessly for nearly 30 minutes, finally lost patience. She shot him a scathing look as his head disappeared back behind the newspaper he had been reading. A moment later her eyes flew to the ceiling where loud footsteps could be heard ascending the stairs followed by the slam of a door.

"How the bloody hell can you be so calm about all this? Our son is quite possibly fragged and needs our support, especially after today, and you're just sitting there reading the newspaper." Richard sighed and lowered his paper meeting the fuming eyes of his wife. Without a word he stood and began to slowly approach her, as a naturist would a startled animal. Taking Margaret by the shoulders he guided her to the sofa and sat beside her.

"Charles is not fragged. He's hurt, angry and grieving. He needs to deal with what happened today on his own terms. If he's choosing to vent his emotions in a rather loud manner so be it. Besides, you hated most of that china anyway." Richard replied joked softly, trying to break the tension.

It was amazing how quickly everything went to shit. After Charles had opened up about his feelings for the Army and Molly, Margaret had hoped that it would be a turning point. She knew that Charles was at a crossroads about his future. For the first time in his life, Charles was driving without a roadmap into the unknown. Ever since he had left university he practically had his entire life mapped out. He had a clear idea in his mind of what he wanted to achieve, and a full proof plan of action (including a backup) to ensure his goals remained within reach. For nearly a decade he had embraced the Army lifestyle, preferring to spend his time living out of a burgen, rather than live a more settled life. His choices had not been without their sacrifices. His marriage had crumbled and he had missed out on some of the important moments as Sam grew up. Now Charles was faced with the daunting task of starting his life over, possibly away from the Army entirely. It was a concept he was still getting used to.

Some days had been better than others. There were times when Charles became so frustrated and despondent about his lack of progress with his rehab that he threated to give it up altogether. Margaret despaired that her once confident son had been reduced to someone so unsure of himself and his abilities. Thank God for a certain Cockney Firecracker. Molly had seemed to be the only one who could get through to him. The two had shared a unique bond forged during war, and the fact that she had saved his life seemed to only deepen their understanding of one another. They both understood the dark side of war and how ugly and unsettling the after effects could be. It was Molly who had given Charles the desperate kick he needed to get himself back on track. She was there to pick him back up and push him to work beyond the pain. She had reminded him that Lady Luck had given him a second change and she was not going to sit back and watch him waste it. He needed to get off his arse and fight like hell to make the most of his second chance and get back to being the cocksure Captain she adored. Molly had even resulted to sending him inspirational quotes in a last ditch attempt to keep him motivated. Although he had grumbled about them initially, Molly's texts soon became the highlight of his day. It was William Ernest Henley's Invictus that had really struck a chord with him:

It matters not how strait the gate,

How charged with punishments the scroll,

I am the master of my fate,

I am the captain of my soul.

In four simple lines Molly had reminded him that he, and he alone, was responsible for his fate. Since then, he had committed himself to his rehab like a man possessed. Margaret was finally starting to see the old Charles again thanks to Molly Dawes. Margaret knew there and then that Molly Dawes was not a woman to be trifled with. Things were finally looking up for them until their world had come to a screeching holt thanks to a 20 minute phone call.

"How could this happen?" with a sigh Margaret lent against her husband.

"The doctors said it could have happened anywhere. It was just unfortunate that it happened when it did."

"Poor Molly. To have to go through that on her own. She's been through enough. They all have. It shouldn't be happening to them. Smurf was still so young. It wasn't his time. Why is life so cruel?"

Richard held his wife as she cried. He had a sneaking suspicion that all the pent up worry, fear and anxiety that had been brewing since Charles had been shot was finally catching up to her. When Charles had first been injured Margaret had barely reacted. Instead, she had done what she always did and jumped straight into crisis mode. With military precision, Margaret had spent all her time flitting back and forth between Bath and Birmingham and placed all her energies into ensuring Charles was well cared for. She hadn't had time to properly grieve and come to terms with the fact that she had been so close to losing her son.

With a sniff Margaret stood up and moved towards the doorway, "I'll talk to him."

"Do you think that's a good idea?" Margaret gave another sigh and rubbed her eyes tiredly. It was getting late but she knew sleep would elude the James house tonight. "Maybe not but I'll be damned if I'm going to stand back and watch him choose darkness yet again. None of this is his fault. He needs to accept that and move on. They both do." With that she got up and marched up the stairs.

When Margaret reached the top of the stairs she found the hallway in total darkness save for a solitary light shining at the end of the hall. The library. As a child whenever Charles had done something wrong or had a bad day at school, he would retreat to the library and read as a way of escaping his reality. The small room filled to the brim with hundreds of books and comfortable sofas provided a sanctuary for Charles where he could think things through in his own time. As she peered around the door she found him slumped on a beanbag still in his uniform, books pulled from their shelves lay haphazardly around him. A battered copy of Under Milk Wood lay open on his knee. He stared unseeingly at the pages before him, his face void of any emotion. It wasn't until Margaret looked closer that she noticed the unbuttoned shirt, the messy un-kept hair, and the far away, haunting look in his eyes. Margaret perched on the edge of the sofa arm and waited. She knew he would talk when he was ready.

"How could I have let it go unnoticed?" He asked quietly.

"You couldn't have known this would happen sweetheart."

"I failed him Mum. I'm an epic fail. Molly warned me that he wasn't right. I didn't listen to her. I just assumed it was pre-tour dickwaving. Maybe she was right."

"Who was right?" Charles didn't answer straight away, instead thumbed through the warn pages on his knee, deep in thought.

"Candy. She said the Army failed her boys. Do you know what she said at the funeral? She said I gave the Army my boys and they gave me back a flag. I mean, what the fuck do you say to that? I'm really sorry I didn't take better care of your sons? That I promised I'd wrap Smurf up in cotton wall and bring him back in one piece so you didn't have to bury another son and I failed you? I failed myself?"

"You didn't fail anybody." Margaret interrupted softly.

"Of course I did. I had a duty of care to every single person in that section. It was my responsibility to ensure they all came back home in one piece. I got emotionally involved and took my eye off the ball. I let them all down."

"You weren't to know how he'd react sweetheart. You did everything in your power to take control of the situation. It's not your fault if Smurf didn't listen. Nobody blames you." Charles shook his head angrily.

"Candy does. I spoke to her after the funeral before I came home. She was devastated mum. And angry. I've never seen someone go from upset to angry so quickly. It was as if someone had flipped a switch."

Charles had stood and began pacing the small space. He looked like a caged animal as he paced restlessly back and forth. His voice had gained in volume as he lost his composure, unable to deal with the excessive levels of frustration, hurt and anger he was feeling at that moment.

"She's grieving sweetheart."

"She said I didn't take very good care of Smurf. What sort of Captain lets one of his men get shot? Twice! I should have realised he was fragged and got him on the first plane home. If I had maybe they would have found it sooner. If I'm guilty of anything it's that. I should have got him checked out the minute Molly suspected he wasn't right. I should have seen the signs. He was a good solider, so was his brother. Candy trusted me with the two most important people in her life and I let her down. Those boys were her world. I should have done more to protect him. I got distracted I took my eyes off the ball and broke my one rule. I got emotionally involved and he wound up dead because of me."

Margaret knelt in front of Charles and placed a cool hand on his cheek, drawing his eyes up to meet hers.

"You listen to me Charles Edward James. What happened to Smurf was inevitable. The haemorrhage could have happened anywhere at any time. Yes, the fact that he had gotten shot was a contributing factor. But that's not to say that it couldn't have happened when he was at home with Candy. Would she have blamed you then? I doubt it. She's just gone through a parent's worst nightmare love. It's difficult watching your child put their life in harms way day after day when you've spent years doing everything you can to protect them and shield them from the evils of the world. She's feeling guilty that she couldn't do anything to help him. She's angry at the world and is lashing out the only way she knows how. You just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. It's no reflection on you sweetheart."

Charles took a deep breath and let it out slowly, the tension finally leaving his body as he deflated in front of her. "She's lost everything Mum. It's not fair. Smurf was home. He made it."

"I know love. Some things just can't be explained. How is Molly taking it?"

"She's in shock I think. God I can't imagine what she had to go through. On her own to. I know she's strong but there's only so much heartache one person can take."

"What will she do now? Will she stay in?"

"Yeah she's taken that short tour of Afghan training medics. She'll be brilliant at it. Training those medics will do her confidence a world of good I'm sure. She's been through so much in such a short space of time, I don't think she's had time to process it all. Hopefully in Afghan she'll be able to sort out her world and everything in it and square all the pain and disappointment away."

In an attempt to try and lighten the mood, Margaret couldn't help but joke, "Does that mean when she gets back that we can finally meet her? Much longer, and we'll start to suspect that she's a figment of your imagination, like the imaginary friend you had when you were six."

"Oi! You know full bloody well Molly's real. We just want some time to settle back into civvie life properly that's all. I'm not intentionally keeping her away."

"See that you don't my boy. Now make sure you get some sleep, you've had a long day." With that Margaret kissed his forehead and headed for the door. She paused and turned back to find him watching her. "Just remember it's only when we are being tested that we truly discover who we really are. You should be proud of the man you've become Charles. I know I am."

**A/N: Our Girl belongs to Tony Grounds and the BBC. Extracts from One Tree Hill and Invictus are not mine. Please R& R. **


	4. Crash Course in Polite Conversations

Crash Course in Polite Conversations 

Margaret James was just about to turn off the lights on the second floor when she was startled by the slam of the front door. What on earth? Frowning, she listened for a few minutes to the not so hushed voices below. Voices? Oh so he'd brought her back had he? Thank goodness she was safe. Margaret and Richard had been dying to meet Molly since she had saved Charles' life 6 months earlier. Molly's increasing commitments to the Army, Charles' rehab, not to mention their own frequent travel plans often meant that they were rarely in Bath at the same time. They were like two ships who passed in the night, often missing each other by a few days or even hours. Margaret couldn't resist the urge to take a peak and quietly poked her head over the banister. She shook her head in amusement and grinned at what she saw.

Charles was stumbling through the hallway, clearly slightly worse for wear, with an equally tipsy Molly wrapped around his back as he attempted to carry her through the house as quietly as possible. Molly had her heels in her hands and was attempting to stifle her giggles into his shoulder. Wait a minute was that? No surely not. Margaret strained her ears. Was Charles actually singing a Christmas song? Margaret paused to listen. It was nice to see her son so care free. She'd missed this side of him. When Charles had text to say Molly had arrived home from Afghan and had surprised him by turning up in Bath, Margaret had hoped a first meeting was imminent. Charles had planned for them to spend a few quiet days together so Molly could acclimatise back into civilian life in peace before returning to the madness of home. Their plans had been short lived after they had received a late night phone call from one of the lads. As Christmas was fast approaching, the lads from Two Section had taken it upon themselves to hold a 12 days of Christmas karaoke tour. 12 days. 12 cities. Both Molly and Charles had decamped back to London to meet the lads for a few Christmas drinks on night number seven of the tour. Seeing as they were back in Bath 24 hours later, Margaret could only guess which city was night number eight. Although Margaret wanted nothing more than to meet Molly properly, she knew that they both needed time to re-connect with their section. Considering the circumstances in which they were last all together, a Christmas night out filled with laughs and fun was just what he doctor ordered.

"Baby I really can't stay. Baby it's cold outsideeee!"

Good grief her son didn't have the best voice when drunk. It was a shame really he usually had a lovely voice.

"Charles Shhhhh! We have to be quiet else we'll wake up your parents. I ain't having them meet me for the first time completely trollied. First impressions are important ya know. Least, that's what me Corp durin' basic used to say," whispered Molly not quietly at all. Margaret frowned as she caught the flash of uncertainty in Molly's eye before her view was blocked as Charles carefully lowered her to the ground and turned her so her back was facing Margaret. From what she did see her son had been right. She did have lovely big, expressive green eyes. Not to mention she was tiny. How on earth had she managed with her kit out in Afghan? Charles, sensing Molly's sudden shift in mood, gently cupped her face and tilted her head up so their eyes met.

"Molly?"

"What if they don't like me? I ain't posh or well educated like you. What if they think I'm some sort of east end trollop only after you for your money? What if they think I'm not good enough? Not to mention Sam. I know how important he is to you. I just…." She was cut off as Charles placed a finger on her lips, all traces of drunkenness gone. Margaret shook her head and had to grip the bannister to stop herself from rushing down the stairs and wrapping her in a great big bear hug. Since she had learnt of Molly's existence, she had heard many things to describe her character. She had been dubbed brave, courageous and full of valour in her Military Cross citation. Charles had described her as cheeky, fun, fiercely independent and loyal to a fault. Her quick thinking on several occasions showed her to be selfless, extremely street smart and calm under pressure. Watching her now and remembering what Charles had said about her life before the Army, it was clear that she was also extremely self-conscious and lacking in self- confidence.

Margaret knew that both Molly and Charles were equally nervous about how their first meeting was going to play out. It seemed Molly in particular, was worried that her past and background would work against her. Margaret could only hope that Charles was able to persuade her otherwise. From an early age, both Margaret and Richard had took great care to encourage Charles to look beyond social standing, wealth and status and focus on a person's behaviour, actions and moral character. They raised him to be a gentleman, to hold doors open and pull out chairs, to treat everyone equally and with respect. Charles firmly believed that everything in life was down to luck. Who you meet and who you fall in love with is all down to pure chance. It didn't matter where you were born or who you were born to, whether you are rich or poor, a beggar or a thief. Everything is down to the luck of the draw. As far as Margaret was concerned, if Molly was the girl to make her son happy, any past mistakes or misdeeds didn't matter a jot.

She was brought from her musings by Charles' reply. "Molly Dawes! Since when have you ever cared what people think of you? You have absolutely nothing to worry about. I've met all manner of people whilst on tour, you know that better than anybody. I don't care where you came from. As for the money, I thought you were with me for my looks?" At Charles' attempt at humour Molly sent him a swift smack around the head. With a chuckle he carried on, "so you didn't do well in school. So what? You've proven yourself since you joined the Army. Did you really think they'd pass you if you couldn't cut it? You save lives for a living Dawes. You don't take any shit from anybody and you say and do what the bloody hell you like regardless of the consequences. You're unflinchingly honest, funny, and have this completely unique ability to see the beauty and light in the darkest of places. As for my parents, they don't care about status. They both abhor those fancy dinners full of self-centred, fake and shallow individuals. Just be yourself and I promise you they will love you as much as I do."

As Charles finished his speech Margaret couldn't help but give a silent cheer in agreement at his words. Molly stared at Charles for a few minutes before she replied. "Bleadin' hell Boss, only you could give such an eloquent and profound speech completely plastered."

"Oi! Watch it Dawes! We better head up. Big day tomorrow. Sam and my parents are dying to meet you. Sam hasn't stopped talking about you since the hospital. Drives Rebecca mad apparently. I can only hope we haven't woken them up already."

"WE? Jog on Bossman! If anyone woke them up it's you with your awful singing. Remind me not to go carolling with you whilst I'm here yeah! Besides I need some water. My heads poundin'." Molly's remark was accompanied by a cheeky impish grin. "Oh you'll pay for that one Dawes I promise you." with that he picked her up and threw her over his shoulder and started along the hallway to the kitchen. Margaret dashed as silently as she could across the landing and back into the bedroom. She could here Molly's hushed protests, punctuated by her giggles before Charles shut the kitchen door, preventing any further sound from escaping. Oh lunch tomorrow will be interesting indeed. She'd better made sure she and Richard made themselves scarce first thing. The last thing Molly needed was an awkward introduction over her morning coco pops.

The next morning, Margaret couldn't help but grin in amusement as she eyed Sam in the rear view mirror. Since he had discovered he would be spending the afternoon with his dad and Molly, Sam had been practically bouncing with excitement. If he wasn't strapped in Margaret was sure he would take flight. He reminded Margaret of a Duracell bunny. "Grandma are we there yet? I want to see her." Hearing a chuckle next to her Richard remarked, "What about you're poor old Dad? Aren't you excited to see him too?" at this Sam paused as if deep in thought.

"Yeah, but I see Dad all the time." At that Richard couldn't help but laugh. As they pulled into the crescent Sam's eyes lit up as he spotted their house. It seems like Molly Dawes had cast a spell on more than one James man. Before Richard had turned off the ignition Sam was out the car and racing towards the front door where he stood hopping from one foot to the other impatiently as he waited for the door to open. Laughing at the impatience of her grandson, Margaret unlocked the door and watched as Sam pushed past and took off like a whirlwind in search of his dad.

"Dad! Dad! We're here!" Charles laughed as he came out of the living room, barely managing to catch Sam as he launched himself into his arms.

"I can see that Scamp! Nice to see you to."

"Hi Dad. Missed you! Love you! Is Molly here? Is she ok? Did you give it to her yet?" Margaret raised an eyebrow at the volley of questions Sam threw at Charles. Sometimes she marvelled at the speed of his thoughts. He was like a butterfly fliting from one thought to the next, always curious and questioning the world around him, just like his dad used to do. Charles though, took it all in his stride.

"Well someone's excited today. To answer your questions, yes she is here, she's fine and no I haven't yet. It's still up in your room. Why don't you go get it?" With that Sam hopped down and flew up the stairs, almost tripping in his haste to get away. Margaret greeted her son with a kiss on the cheek. "Everything alright?" Charles, inferring her meaning, grinned sheepishly. "Yeah she's fine. She's finally stopped pacing. I'll admit I was starting to worry for your rug Mum. I've sent her into the living room with a cup of tea to try and calm her down. She's got more energy than a Duracell bunny. "Oi! I heard that Bossman!" An indignant voice called through the doorway. Charles grinned fondly as he led Margaret into the living room where they found Molly hovering near the window wringing her hands nervously.

Molly smiled uncertainly as she came to stand next to Charles. He took her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "Mum, this is Molly." Margaret came forward and smiled at Molly who extended her hand. Margaret saw the flash of panic as she ignored the gesture, instead drawing Molly to her in a hug. She clearly wasn't expecting the gesture as she felt Molly stiffen ever so slightly before relaxing into the embrace. Margaret drew back and held Molly at arms length, taking her in. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you Molly. Charles and Sam haven't shut up about you. We were beginning to think you were some mythical creature though." Charles groaned and shot Margaret a glare which she ignored, her attention focused solely on Molly. "How was your tour? Did you achieve what you set out to do? We've been hearing great things." Margaret watched as Molly blushed in embarrassment. The poor dear was clearly unused to compliments. "Umm thank you ma'am. Yes the tour went well, it was good to go back in a way. The Afghan medics were great students, so eager and enthusiastic to learn all they could to help others." Margaret didn't miss the loaded look she sent Charles when she asked how she was.

"Please dear. Call me Margaret. I'm not the Queen. Well I wasn't when I looked in the mirror this morning." Molly laughed as she allowed Margaret to tow her over to the sofa. "Alright Margaret."

"Mum where's Dad? I thought he went with you to get Sam?" Before Margaret could answer Richard walked through the door carrying various bags of luggage. "Hello troops. What have I missed?" Scanning the room and spotting the new addition he raised an eyebrow in question at his wife. At Margaret's gentle nod of affirmation Richard moved forward to greet Molly. "Ahh so you must be the famous Molly Dawes. How do you do? It's an honour to meet you. I'm glad you're here actually I have it on good authority that you're the nuts with blisters private. If that's the case I have one from my new walking boots that's been giving me frightful bother if you wouldn't mind taking a look later?" Richard joked as he sent Molly a reassuring wink.

Margaret rolled her eyes at her husband's attempt at humour. "Oh, take no notice of him Molly. It's his own fault he didn't break them in before he decided to go on a 3 mile walk. Foolish man. He's got nobody to blame but himself." Molly however, took it all in her stride.

"Not a problem Mr James. I wore heels last night for the first time in months so I feel your pain. Though in all honesty, if your feet smell half as bad as your son's, I may have to politely decline." Molly joked. Margaret couldn't help but laugh. Oh Molly was a cheeky one alright. Richard, knowing all too well when he was fighting a losing battle, had the grace to back down quietly.

"Fair enough, young lady." Charles however, refused to let Molly's dig go unnoticed.

"Oi, watch it Dawes! I can still have you up on a charge you know." Molly merely shook her head and eyed his mischievously, a challenge clear in her eyes. "Oh Yeah? Whatever you say Bossman. We both know you only used them blisters of yours as an excuse to experience my charm and magnetism. Besides, if anybody deserves to be up on a charge it's you for butchering a Christmas classic last night, I thought you could hold a tune or had I just too much sand in me ears?" Charles started at Molly in shock as he realised he had been caught out and insulted all in the same breath. Margaret, never one to miss embarrassing her son, couldn't help but join in. "I'm afraid Molly had a point there my boy. You're singing last night did leave a lot to be desired. I'm surprised the neighbours didn't complain. I think you should endeavour not to sing when you're pissed from now on. You didn't do yourself justice dear." Molly burst out laughing as she gave Charles a reassuring pat on the knee as he huffed. "I thought you of all people would be one hundred per cent by my side Dawes. Now I find you're ganging up on me with my own mother? Where's Sam? I'm sure he appreciates my singing talents, even if nobody else in this family does."

Right on queue they heard the pounding of feet down the stairs before they came to a sudden stop. Charles shook his head. "He better not bloody….." Charles was cut off by an almighty bang which caused Molly to jump. "Sam Charles James how any bloody times have we talked about you jumping the bottom step?" Charles called out sternly. Sam poked his head sheepishly around the doorframe and mumbled "Dad you swore again!" At Charles' raised eyebrow Sam hung his head with a sigh, "you keep telling me that if I jump the bottom step I'll fall through the floor." Hearing a chuckle Sam's head snapped up to focus on Molly, eyes wide. "Don't worry mate, your dad and the lads swore all the time out in Afghan. We started a swear jar in the end." Sam eyed Molly curiously.

"What's that?" he asked eagerly coming over to sit on Margaret's lap.

"Well if you hear someone swear they have to put one pound in a jar." Sam's eyes grew wide.

"What you mean every time?" Molly laughed.

"Yup." Sam grinned as he turned to Margaret and Charles expectantly.

"Dad you owe me a pound. It's a good job I didn't have a swear jar sooner. I could be rich now with the amount of swearing Grandma does, even when she thinks I can't hear."

Despite the fact that her grandson had just dropped her right in it, Margaret marvelled at how quickly Sam warmed up too Molly. It was clear she was a natural around children, but then being the oldest of six, it wasn't that surprising. "Grandma if we find a jar can me and Molly make a swear jar please? I think we should definitely have one." Margaret shook her head at Sam's puppy dog look. She dared anybody to defy those huge brown eyes, an exact replica of his fathers. With a sigh she pretended to consider. "Well, if you ask your dad nicely I'm sure he could find you and Molly one before dinner."

"Can we Dad please?" Charles sent a questioning look at Molly who shrugged. When Charles nodded Sam jumped up and hugged him. "Thanks Daddy. Oh I almost forgot…this is for you Molly" Molly knelt down to Sam's level as she took the card Sam gave her. On the outside was a picture of a smiling figure in army uniform, clearly meant to represent Molly, with the words Thank You on the front. Inside Sam had wrote To Molly, Thank You for saving my Daddy, Love Sam xxx. Molly stared speechless for a few minutes as Sam watched her anxiously. Finally she looked up and gave him a brilliant smile. "I love it mate, thank you." Sam lent forward and wrapped his arms around her shoulders, burying his face in her neck. Molly pulled him to her as she rocked back on her heels. Sam placed a hand on her cheek and brought his mouth to her ear and whispered "Thank you for bringing back my Daddy. I'm glad you're home safe. Daddy missed you. But shh it's a secret."

Margaret watched the exchange with tears in her eyes. Although she couldn't hear what Sam was saying it obviously meant a great deal to Molly who managed to choke out a thank you before returning Sam's hug. Margaret had no doubt that those two would soon be fast friends. Having had a glimpse of Molly's sense of humour, she had an awful feeling Charles would soon be in a world of trouble when those two got together. Seeing how emotional she had gotten Richard leant over and whispered to Margaret, "I like her. She's got spark. She'll keep him on his toes alright make no mistake. Molly's just what this family needs to stir things up and bring some excitement back into this house just you wait and see." As Margaret watched Molly and Sam laugh at Charles she was inclined to agree.

The rest of the day had been spent getting to know each other. Molly had felt comfortable enough to share stories about her experiences in Afghan and took great delight in telling how Charles had been a complete arse in the early days of the tour. She'd gotten her revenge by confessing how she calling him Captain Stern Face, a name Sam and Molly had used the rest of the day to mind him up. Margaret noticed how fondly she spoke about her family and life growing up in Newham, despite its difficulties. She also, rather reluctantly, shared how on her eighteenth birthday, she had ended up throwing up outside the Army recruitment office. Charles had found this hilarious, "Just like mum after her 60th ay dad?" He'd earned a smack for that one. Molly had even won extra brownie points from Sam when he discovered she had grown up a stone's throw away from a football stadium, "I bet you could see loads of matches from your window."

As Margaret pottered about in the kitchen putting the finishing touches to dinner later that evening, she was interrupted by someone clearing their throat. "Is there anything I can help with?" Molly asked. Margaret looked up from the sink and smiled at Molly hovering in the kitchen doorway. She eyed Molly thoughtfully for a few minutes. The longer the silence stretched on, the more nervous Molly got. With a slight smirk, Margaret decided to have some fun.

"Well, you could start by telling me whether or not it's safe for us to eat on the dining room table. If the answer is no then I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to re-lay the table in the drawing room." Molly blushed scarlet. She opened her mouth but no sound came out. She could only settle on a shake of her head.

"Lovely" Margaret replied clapping her hands together. "Now, dinner will be ready in about 15 minutes, why don't you go sit with Sam for a bit. He said something about you teaching him Sang Chill Bazi? Apparently Charles is shit at it." There was no mistaking the mischievous twinkle in her eyes as she talked about her family. The longer Molly spent around the James matriarch the more obvious it was to her where Charles got his cheeky charm and playfulness from. With a shy nod, unable to meet Margaret's eye, Molly turned to leave. "Molly?" As she turned back Margaret reached out and took her hand. "Thank you." Molly shot her a confused look.

"For what?"

"Oh all sorts of things dear. First thank you for looking after my boy and bringing him home to us. Secondly for being so good about Sam, he adores you. Thank you for reminding Charles how to laugh and smile again. Finally, and perhaps most importantly, thank you for being his light when things got dark. I'd also say thank you for caring for his blisters but I don't envy you that task one bit." Molly laughed softly and replied quietly, "It was nothing. I was only doin' me job Mrs James.. Margaret." Gently, Margaret took Molly's hand in her own and gave it a squeeze. "It was certainly not nothing. I don't know how we can ever repay you for bringing our boy home. Just know that you are always welcome here. Your part of the family now." Molly took a shaky breath and managed to whisper a thank you before turning to leave the room. Margaret watched her go. One thing was for sure, Richard had been wrong. Molly wouldn't bring the house to life. She already had the moment she'd walked through the door several months ago.

**A/N: Thank you so much for all the support and encouragemnet with this story, it really means a lot. Please R&R.**


	5. No Good Deed Goes Unpunished

No Good Deed (Goes Unpunished)

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Molly asked anxiously as she allowed Richard James to help her into her jacket. She was in Bath on a weekend pass and had reluctantly agreed to join the James family as they cheered on Sam at his school's rugby match before they flew to Prague for the week. Although excited to see Sam, the same couldn't be said about coming face to face with Rebecca again after their last encounter. It was Margaret who answered Molly's question. "Don't worry, Rebecca is aware you'll be joining us. You never know, it might give the two of you an opportunity to get to know each other better."

Molly couldn't stop the snort from escaping. "The last time I tried to extend an olive branch to Rebecca I got it thrown back in me face. She was lucky I was too worried about Sam or else I'd have shoved it up her arse. Sayin' that, it probably wouldn't fit up there, what with the stick that's already jammed up there." Richard bit the side of his cheek as he fought not to laugh. Margaret however, wasn't about to let Molly off the hook so easily. "You know she didn't mean what she said. She was just mad and upset about what happened to Sam and you just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. She knew she was in the wrong but she's stubborn. A lot like someone else I know." Margaret remarked with a pointed look at Molly, who dropped her gaze to the floor. Begrudgingly Molly nodded. "Fine. I'll be nice. But if she starts anything…"

"Then you will be the mature one and rise above it like I know you can." Margaret countered with a mock glare, having heard numerous stories of Molly's temper. Her putdowns had become legendary amongst the boys in their section as well as other members of the DRMC who had been unlucky enough to catch Molly on a bad day. Margaret herself had heard first-hand some of the acid tongued putdowns she had aimed at Two Section, and was proud of the fact that a little old thing like Molly could hold her own, particularly in a male orientated environment. Molly didn't need fisticuffs. Her sharp words were like knives when used effectively and that, coupled with a few withering glares, was enough to send the strongest of Army men running for the hills. Margaret only hoped that Rebecca saw sense and put things right like she'd promised she would.

Their exchange was interrupted as Charles appeared at the threshold fidgeting impatiently. "What is this a mother's meeting? I thought you said you'd be behind me. We'll hit all the traffic if we don't leave now. Double away!" It was Margaret's turn to bite her cheek as Richard and Molly shared a mischievous look before they simultaneously turned to Charles both giving a mock salute each as they marched, in perfect sync, past him out the door towards the car.

"Yes Bossman!"

"Right you are Captain!"

Charles couldn't help but laugh as he watched them in the street. "Stop taking the piss you two!" With an exasperated look he offered his arm to Margaret. "She'll give me grey hairs." Margaret laughed as she shut and locked the door behind them. "Don't be too hard on her, she's worried about today. Let her deal with it how she chooses, at least she's smiling. The way I see it, if you can't beat 'em, join 'em." Charles stayed silent as he watched Molly attempt to show his dad how to stand to attention, a ghost of a smile on his lips. Shaking himself out of his stupor he offered his arm and proceeded to march a laughing Margaret confidently down the steps towards the car. You can take the man out of the Army but you can't take the Army out of the man. At least, not easily.

Margaret followed Charles and Molly as they walked hand in hand along the river towards the Recreational Ground. She couldn't help but chuckle at her son's attempts at explaining the rules of rugby to Molly. Whilst she enjoyed watching rugby, they all knew she was a football fan through and through. As they wound their way around various stands and tried, with varying degrees of success, to dodge getting their legs bashed by exasperated mothers with push chairs, Margaret spotted Rebecca and Sam stood talking to Sam's coach. As they approached Margaret couldn't help but notice Molly's body tense as if poised for a fight. Charles placed a reassuring arm across her back before he greeted his ex-wife with an awkward hug. Molly nodded politely at Rebecca who returned the gesture with an awkward smile. Sam, oblivious to the tension, began talking enthusiastically to Charles about some of Bath's players he had spotted. "Can we go see them and get an autograph please Dad?" Richard took the lead and the men left leaving the ladies behind under Margaret's watchful eye.

The women stood in awkward silence, neither wanting to be the first to make a move. Eventually, Rebecca broke the silence. "Can we talk?" Margaret didn't miss the weary look Molly sent Rebecca before she nodded and walked over to a vacated picnic table. Not wanting to intrude, Margaret tried to make tactful retreat, "I'll just be over here if you need me. Play nice now."

"No Margaret you can stay. I think we'd both prefer it. Look, Molly I owe you an apology. I behaved abysmally the last time we met and I said things that were completely uncalled for." Molly said nothing as Rebecca shifted uncomfortably in her seat. Ohh good girl, making Rebecca work for it. "I'm sorry. I was acting like a complete bitch and you didn't deserve the brunt of it." Margaret watched Molly's face for any sign of what she might be thinking or feeling but it was completely blank. Margaret and Richard were the only ones who really knew what had happened that day and just how much Rebecca's words had hurt Molly. For her part, Molly, knowing how hard both Charles and Rebecca had worked to rebuild their friendship after their divorce, hadn't wanted Charles to get involved and inadvertently force him to choose a side. Finally, Molly spoke. "I didn't mean to make you feel like I was taking over. In all honesty I went into auto pilot. I'm so used to being the first one on the ground I completely forgot about the other paramedics. My priority was getting Sam seen to as quickly as I could."

Rebecca had been away on a business trip and Sam was staying with Charles and Molly for the week. Although Sam was accustomed to shuffling between homes, everyone was keen to ensure he had structure and a routine wherever possible, so Charles, Molly, Margaret and Richard had taken Sam to his rugby match as normal. Rebecca had promised to do her best to get back in time. It was during the match that everything had gone to shit. During the game Sam had been involved in a particularly nasty tackle that had resulted in him being knocked out. Although he had come around fairly quickly, the medical team were taking no chances and suspecting he could have a concussion, sent him straight to hospital to get checked out.

Margaret was quick to back Molly up, "She was there straight away Rebecca. As soon as he was hit Molly was up and running. By the time she had reached Sam he was conscious and refusing to let anyone else near him. He was disorientated and panicked by all the people but Molly was able to conduct an initial assessment of his injuries whilst keeping Sam calm and still. That gave Charles the chance to explain to the paramedics that Molly was an Army medic so knew what to do. They were happy to have an extra pair of hands to help get Sam comfortable." Rebecca had nodded and Margaret could see she was finding it hard to speak. It was Molly who continued.

"Seeing Sam go down like that. It brought it all back." Seeing Rebecca's confused look, Margaret clarified. "Smurf."

"I was there when Smurf died. He collapsed in the middle of the pitch. One minute he was practising his dribbling, the next, he was clutching his head and falling to the floor. He didn't get back up."

Margaret noticed the look of daunting horror on Rebecca's face and she reached out and gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "I couldn't do anything for him. Smurf I mean. I felt so helpless watchin' the paramedics. I guess I felt I could help Sam because I knew what was wrong. I could do something for Sam in a way I couldn't for Smurf."

"Oh God! You had to deal with that, as well as worrying about Sam when I came into the hospital and started running my mouth off."

Molly smiled sadly. "It weren't your fault. We was all worried."

When they had arrived at the hospital Charles had been allowed to go straight in to be with Sam and Molly had volunteered to stay and fill out the paperwork with Margaret and Richard whilst they waited for Rebecca. They were almost done when a staff nurse had approached Molly and told her she was free to see her son. Unfortunately Rebecca had chosen that particular moment to make an appearance. To say she wasn't impressed had been an understatement. She'd coldly informed the nurse that she was in fact Mrs James and Sam's mother and that Molly was nothing to do with her son. She'd then completely dismissed Molly's attempts to explain and instead snidely suggesting that it would be an idea for Molly to step back and not to become too attached to Sam as she didn't want to have to explain her sudden disappearance from his life when her relationship with Charles didn't work out. She'd then followed the nurse to the ward without so much as a backwards glance. It was when Molly had turned around, tears in her eyes, that she saw Richard and Margaret stood a few feet away and trying desperately to pretend they hadn't heard the tail end of the conversation. Molly had broken down and made them promise not to say anything to Charles.

Margaret watched the two women as they contemplated what to do next. She knew by the look on Molly's face that she wanted to say more but was scared of rocking the boat even more. Margaret gave a subtle nudge of her head in Rebecca's direction and Molly seemed to get the message. Keeping her eyes on the pitch Molly spoke. "I ain't trying to replace you or nothing. You will always be Sam's mum and I don't ever want you to feel that that is being threatened." Rebecca didn't say anything instead indicated that it was ok for Molly to say what she needed to.

"Look I'd like it if we could all get along. You and Charles have a son together. Whatever happened or didn't happen between you, you're both going to be a part of each other's lives always. Whether you like it or not, I intend to be around for a long time. Do you really want it to be awkward and uncomfortable for everyone? I'm willing to be civil, I've got nothing against you and to be perfectly honest, I'd appreciate it if you didn't judge me on a 10 word conversation next to a hospital bed. We'll discount the last encounter for obvious reasons. I love Charles, and Sam too. That isn't going to change. I like spending time with them both. Please don't punish Charles just because he's found a piece of happiness."

Rebecca paused as she let Molly's words sink in. In truth Margaret could see Molly had surprised her by being so forward and open. If Rebecca wanted to have any sort of positive relationship with Molly, now was the time to lay everything on the line so they could start again. Whilst Molly was usually very forgiving, it only went so far. Taking a deep breathe Rebecca jumped right in.

"I know I came across as a bit stand-offish at the hospital. I was still angry that Charles had volunteered yet again to put himself in danger and I was scared at just how close we came to losing him. Thank you for bringing him home to us by the way. I'll not pretend it didn't hurt that he'd moved on. Any fool could see the two of you had chemistry. Not to mention Sam seemed to really like you. He's not one who takes to new people easily you see and he wouldn't stop talking about you after we left the hospital. I suppose I was a bit jealous of how easy you seemed to slot into their lives."

Molly shook her head. "It weren't like that. You make it sound like it were easy for me an Charles to be together. It wasn't."

"I know that Molly. I also know how understanding you've been about Sam. I hear you didn't find out under the best of circumstances. Most women would have run a mile. But not you. You accepted Sam's place in Charles's life. You've been extremely patient and haven't tried to push a relationship on him, instead letting him get to know you on his terms and at what speed he is comfortable with. I'm sorry for what I said in the hospital. I'm glad you want to get to know Sam. I never meant for you to doubt your place in his life. He adores you and that won't change.

I think that's what was so hard about seeing you together. You're clearly good for Charles and Sam to. You balance him out. From what he's told me he found it easy to open up to you about the important stuff. You understood the pull the Army has on him and the need to be out on the front line when he could be home safe with his family. I never could understood why he would choose to be away from us. It took me a long time to realise that he wasn't very good at being settled. He was too restless, always looking for the next adventure. That's one of the reasons we stopped working as a couple. We didn't communicate with each other and we both wanted completely different things and neither of us knew quite what to do about it. We still love each other but we work better as friends. I'm glad he's found you. Truly. He deserves some happiness. The last few years have been difficult on him, as I'm sure you're aware. I'd like to try to be friends. Just…." Rebecca trailed off.

"What?" Molly prompted.

"Just promise me you won't hurt him." Margaret watched Molly's face break into a smile as she spotted Charles in the crowd.

"That ain't gunna happen. I know you're not what you expected for Charles. I'm young, I swear far too much and say the first thing that comes into my head without thinking. But that doesn't mean that I don't love Charles because I do. I'm not used to relying on others. I don't trust easily or let many people in. But Charles believes in me and encourages me to be better just as I am. He's the best thing that's happened to me. I ain't gunna do anything to spoil that. But, if I do you have my permission to kick my arse how's that?"

Both Margaret and Rebecca laughed.

"Fair enough. I'll take that. Look after him Molls Charles is special." Molly grinned

"Oh I know, he's a diamond alright as me Nan says."

Margaret let out a sigh of relief, glad they were able to clear the air. She knew deep down they could be great friends if they got past their insecurities and got to know one another. At least now, it looked like there might be a good chance of that happening.

"Right ladies are you ready for an exciting game of Rugby? Sam's game is about to begin and Charles has found a great spot." Margaret looked up to see Richard grinning down at them. Both Molly and Rebecca stood up and started walking over. "Better not keep Captain Stern face waiting ay Rebecca? Wanna place your bets on who's gunna win?"

"Nah me and Charles have got a bet on how much you lot are going to end up putting in Sam's swear jar during the match. I reckon it'll be Margaret but Charles thinks Molly." Richard laughed at Molly's reaction as she muttered under her breath. He leaned over and whispered in her ear, "Mission accomplished?" Margaret gave him a smile as they neared Charles. Both Molly and Rebecca were already cheering.

"Mission accomplished. They'll get on just fine. You wait and see,"

"Care to bet on that dear wife?"

**A/N: Thanks for the continuing support for this story. A big thanks for everyone on OGA. You nut bars keep me sane with your continuing support and general loveliness and crazy discussions.**

**OG belongs to Tony Grounds and the BBC. **


	6. Everyday is a Sunday Evening

Everyday is a Sunday Evening

Margaret gave an irritated sigh as she drummed her fingers impatiently on the steering wheel. Molly's train was due any minute and she was nowhere near Bath Spa station. Recent road works, coupled with the usual Friday rush hour traffic, had turned a relatively easy journey into a commuter's nightmare. "Stupid bloody traffic!" she grumbled as she beeped her horn at a driver as they cut her up at the roundabout. "Grandma are you swearing again? Are we nearly there? Should we phone Molly?" called a voice from the back, tinged with exasperation. Margaret glanced in the rear view mirror and couldn't help but smile at Sam's disgruntled face as he stared miserably out the window. "Sorry, Sorry! We're two minutes away darling, I promise." After spending the morning of her birthday with her family in Newham, Molly was catching the train to Bath to spend the remainder of her birthday weekend with the James clan.

Since her promotion to Lance Corporal, Molly had taken every opportunity to further develop her medical knowledge as well as the added responsibility of looking after a section. As her deployment drew nearer, Molly had spent an increasing amount of time undergoing specialist training with her section out on exercise. Margaret knew that Molly's first deployment had been daunting and traumatic and she hadn't wanted her team to feel as unprepared as she had. She had been working extensively alongside her section to ensure they had the knowledge and skills they needed to ensure they were mentally and physically prepared to deal with whatever was thrown at them. The last time Margaret had seen Molly, she had appeared in Bath on a weekend pass looking absolutely shattered. From what Charles had said it sounded as though things hadn't gotten any better. Although Molly had been delighted to be assigned to the same platoon as her favourite group of Cockwombles, the new additions to her section had failed to make a good first impression with the young medic.

Margaret had been extremely glad when Charles had let slip that Molly's birthday was approaching. At least now she had an excuse to organise a weekend that guaranteed Molly a few days of R and R to help her recharge her batteries. Judging by how exhausted Molly looked as she pulled into the drop off zone Margaret knew they had made the right choice regarding Molly's presents. Watching in concern as Molly approached the car, Margaret swore she had lost weight, though she wasn't sure if that was down to her being on exercise or the fact that she had been back and forth to London to see her family for her birthday.

Molly was stood on the curb dressed in civilian clothing and carrying her pack. Winding down the window Margaret called out, "need a lift birthday girl?" Molly laughed as she slid into the passenger seat and reached over to hug Margaret hello.

"Thanks for picking me up, I'd have been happy getting a taxi you know."

"Nonsense sweetheart, it's no trouble. Besides somebody couldn't wait any longer to see you." Before Molly could respond Sam shouted from the back,

"Happy Birthday Molly!"

Molly turned to greet a beaming Sam. "Cheers Sammy! Did ya miss me? I sure missed you lot. This training lark ain't much fun I can tell you." Margaret chuckled as she watched Molly drink in the familiar darkening streets of Bath as the last rays of the day's sun faded below the buildings.

"How is the training going?" Molly groaned and rested her head against the window.

"I'm glad to be back with my boys but the newbies are a bunch of muppets. Most are full of that first tour bravado and think they are better than each other. Charles used to call it early tour dick waving." Out of the corner of her eye Margaret saw a small hand appear between the seats, waiting patiently. Margaret chuckled as Molly sighed and reached into her pocket, pulling out a pound coin. After a pause she placed the coin back in her pocked and handed Sam a five pound note only to pull it back before he could take it.

"Just in case Sammie. Though if I hear you repeat any of these words I'll have your dad wash your mouth out with soap. Then, I'll get your mum to do it Ok?" At Sam's frantic nod Molly handed over the note. Oh dear, things must be bad. It was rare that Molly had to pull out a note around Sam; that was usually left to Margaret. At this rate, he'd have enough to pay for Uni before he'd even sat his A levels. Throwing an amused look at her Grandson's shell-shocked expression Margaret nodded for Molly to continue.

"You'd think they'd be falling over themselves to make a good impression but nooo! All they are interested in is outdoing each other to see who can do everything best. It's like they're all involved in one giant pissing contest. I swear they're like a bunch of kids. They don't listen to each other, refuse to learn from the experiences of the boys and barely listen to what I tell them half the time. They've got their heads so far up their own arses that they fail to see what it's all about. Too busy looking after number one. It ain't like that. They need to look out for each other. Trust one another to have each other's backs. Can't they see that it's not about looking out for number one but numbers two to twelve in their section? They become a team. A family. If they don't work together they've got no chanced out in Africa."

Margaret didn't say anything as they pulled into Royal Crescent, giving Molly time to simmer down. Turning off the ignition Margaret turned to face Molly. "Maybe you ought to tell _them_ that. Don't forget that what you and the boys experienced out in Afghanistan counts for a hell of a lot. You need to make them see how important it is for the section to work as a whole, not as individuals. I know it'd harder now you're of a higher rank. But it' like Charles told you. You are there to be their boss, not their friend. You can do this Molly, you just have to believe in yourself a bit more. failing that, just flash them your MC, that ought to shut them up. Now lets concentrate on celebrating your birthday alright?"

Margaret tried not to laugh as Sam struggled to lift Molly's pack on his own. Ever the gentleman, he offered to help carry Molly's bag on his own, not quite grasped the fact that the burgen weighed nearly as much as he did. Taking pity on him, Molly offered to help him lift it up the steps to where Charles was stood waiting for them. Arms crossed, he lent casually against the doorway eyes alight with mischief. Margaret watched Molly's face light up as he swept her off her feet into a hug.

"There she is. We were worried you'd got lost." Placing her down gently Charles pulled Molly's face towards his in a gentle kiss. "Happy Birthday Dawesy." Molly smiled as she rested her head against his chest, her shoulders finally dropped, releasing all the tension of the last few weeks. "How was exercise? The lads coping alright?"

"ahh the boys are the same as ever. Missing their boss but enjoyin takin the piss out of the newbies and not in a good way."

"Are they not getting on?" Ah so the Captain is still in there somewhere. It was times like this, when Molly would talk about something as simple as how her day went, where Margret could see that Charles still missed the Army. Although he had decided to resign is commission, he still struggled to let that part of his life go. He had lived and breathed the army for nearly a decade and Margaret could see that even now, over two years later, Charles was still finding his old army habits hard to break.

"Are they heck Bossman! Someone needs to give them a swift kick up the arse and remind them there is no I in team." Charles wrapped an arm around Molly's shoulders and gave her a sympathetic squeeze. "I'm sure you an the lads wil be fine. just make sure you tell the CO your concerns. Dont let it slide Dawesy." with that he drew her in for another kiss.

"Yuck Daddy!" Margaret laughed as Charles pulled back, raising an eyebrow at the look of disgust on Sam's face. "This'll be you in a few years Sammie." Margaret wished she had a camera to capture the look on Sam's face. Charles might as well have told him that Christmas, Easter and his birthday had all been cancelled. As they walk into the house Molly automatically started towards the dining room to dump her kit in her usual spot when Sam comes charging past her and plants himself squarely in front the dining room door. With his feet planted wide, arms folded and a stern look on his face, Margaret couldn't help but think he looked like a mini Charles.

"Wait!" Caught off guard by Sam's sudden change in behaviour, Molly failed to see Charles sneak behind her and cover her eyes with his hands.

"Oi! What's goin on? Bossman!" At Charles' nod Margaret and Sam slip past them into the dining room where Richard stood waiting, a bottle of champagne in hand. At Margaret's signal Charles guides Molly slowly into the room, careful to avoid the door frame and chairs, as Margaret dims the lights. She signs to three with her fingers and everyone yells "Surprise!"

As Charles takes his hands away from Molly's eyes she gazes around the room in shock. Her mouth drops as she takes in the dining table beautifully laid out with cutlery, candles and champagne glasses. Happy birthday banners hand from the walls and a bunch of balloons have been tied to Molly's usual chair. At the centre of the table is a chocolate cake lit with candles and sparklers. On the sideboard a small pile of neatly wrapped gifts and cards await to be opened. As Molly registers the delicious smell of roast beef, fresh vegetables and potatoes her stomach starts to rumble.

"Happy Birthday Molly," Richard pops the cork and Margaret jumped forward to catch the champagne in a glass which she hands to a dazed looking Molly. She blushes as the James' break out into a rendition of Happy Birthday and cheer as Molly blows her candles out, though not before making a wish at Sam's insistence. "You didn't have to do all this. I'd have been happy with a take away and a few beers." Margaret shakes her head as Molly looks at the faces around her, still overwhelmed at how much trouble they had gone to just for her. "We wanted to do something special for your birthday, especially after all you've been through the last few weeks. You deserve to be spoiled today young lady, no arguments. Though don't think we haven't forgiven you for keeping it quiet." Molly smiled and gave a mock salute as Charles holds out her chair for her to sit down. Once everyone is settled with a glass of champagne Richard stands and raises his glass in a toast, "To Molly. We hope you have a very Happy Birthday, you deserve it." Everyone cheered and clinked glasses. "Right tuck in everyone."

After dinner Margaret and the rest of the family were gathered in the living room eating cake as they watched Molly open her presents. So far she had received a hilarious birthday video filled with messages from the boys in Two Section, along with a bottle of wine and some flowers. Charles and Sam had given her a gorgeous charm bracelet with several charms already attached. Sam had been particularly keen for Molly to know that he had had some input into the present. Margaret knew he had thought long and hard about his choices of charms as he eagerly explained to Molly. "I chose the heart charm because when you're away It'll remind you that everyone back home loves you and misses you. The rucksack is to represent your travels so far and your job as a medic. The tower bridge charm is to remind you that London is your home and it's where you came from. Was that ok? Don't you like it?" Sam sent a panicked glance at Charles as Molly's eyes welled with tears.

"Oh mate it's the best present. I love it, thank you." Margaret couldn't help but chuckle at the look of sheer relief on Sam's face as Charles carefully placed the bracelet around Molly's wrist. "Right it's our turn Molly." Molly took the envelope Margaret handed her and eyed it curiously. She watched as Molly opened the envelope, and eagerly read the card inside, her eyes widening the further down the page she read. When she finished she looked back and forth between Margaret and Richard as she struggled to find the words. "This is for me?" Reaching out for Molly's hand, Margaret gave it a gentle squeeze.

"We thought you were in need of a bit of retail therapy so we've booked you both into the spa tomorrow for a day of pampering and treatments. You have full access to the pool, steam rooms and sauna and you can choose the treatments you want. I'd definitely recommend the hot stone massage and I know how much you enjoy having your nails done. Though seeing as they aren't regulation, you might want to try a pedicure instead." Molly stared at Margaret for a few seconds without saying anything. She shot Charles a concerned look. "If you don't like it I'm sure we could find something else we just thought….." Margaret didn't get to finish her sentence as a tearful Molly launched herself into her arms.

"Thank you so much. I don't know what to say, it's too much. I really can't wait. I've never been to a spa before. It all sounds well nice." Margaret laughed as she smoothed Molly's hair back from her face. "You're very welcome sweetheart. It's our pleasure." When Molly's face suddenly fell Margaret gave her a gentle nudge to get her to speak.

"Well I ain't got me swimming costume with me." Margaret smirked as she answered.

"Don't worry we've thought of that. Charles sent a text to your mum. She should have snuck your bikini into your kit." Molly's jaw dropped.

"Wow! Charles was right. You really do plan for all scenarios don't ya!" At that Margaret could only laugh.

On Sunday evening, Margaret walked into the living room and handed Charles a cup of coffee. Richard was in his study and Rebecca had collected an exhausted Sam a while ago. Charles smiled gratefully as he took the steaming cup of Rosabya, careful not to disturb a sleeping Molly, who lay curled up against his chest. Since she had returned home from the spa earlier in the afternoon, she felt like a new woman, at least, that was what she had told Margaret when they arrived. Margaret was glad. She couldn't remember the last time she had seen Molly so relaxed and content.

"Do you think she enjoyed it?" Margaret asked quietly as she sat near the fire and watched as Charles gazes lovingly at Molly as she slept.

"Yeah, I've a lovely weekend thank you. That spa was amazing." a voice whispered causing Margaret jump. Looking at Molly she noticed her eyes were open and she was smirking. Margaret sent Molly a mock glare as she burst into giggles. "How long have you been awake?" Molly sat up and stretched leisurely as she sank back against the pillows.

"I could smell the Rosabaya. Besides I wasn't asleep, just resting me eyes." Margaret noticed Molly's good mood seem to diminish as she stared thoughtfully at the flames.

"What's on your mind sweetheart? You're not worried about your section are you? I'm sure it will all come together."

'Oh ignore me. I'm just bein' a bit of a prannit. I've just got that Sunday feeling is all."

Charles looked down at Molly in amusement, "The what? That another of your weird cockney saying Dawesy?"

"No you muppet. You know that feeling you get on a Sunday where you just have the whole day to yourself, and it's been great, and then you remember you have to leave tomorrow, so it ruins the rest of the night? I have to go home tomorrow, and so I've got that feeling. It's like Sunday night."

"It is a Sunday night Dawes." Charles joked. Margaret reached for a magazine on the coffee table, rolled it and proceeded to whack Charles around the head. "Ow! What?" Margaret pointed an accusing finger at her son. "You! Just like your father you are. No tack. Zip! Nada! Niente!" Insensitive prat. Charles shot a glare at Margaret. "It was a joke mother. Having said that, I understand what you mean Molls. I hate that you have to leave too. Which is why we've got you something."

"What is it? Not another present Boss. You've all done enough. More than enough." Margaret couldn't help but intervene as she saw Molly begin to get worked up.

"Sweetheart relax. It isn't a present as such. So you shouldn't worry." With an encouraging nod from Margaret, Charles handed Molly a small rectangular shape, neatly wrapped. Eying it sceptically Molly couldn't help but joke." You ain't proposing are ya Charles, Caz I expect you ta do it proper like. Down on bended knee an' everything." Margaret shot Charles a sideways look. Was that a flash of panic there? Hummm this could be Interesting. Rubbing his neck, Charles gave an embarrassed cough. "Just bloody open it Dawes." Oh so he's now on the defensive is he. Curiouser and curiouser. With an uncertain look, Molly carefully unwrapped a small box and opened the lid. Margaret smiled at the confused look on her face at the boxes contents.

"A key?" Margaret nodded at Charles to explain.

"Well you aren't the only one who gets the Sunday feeling every time you leave Dawes. We've talked about it and we all agree that we want you to think of this place as your home. Before you say anything I know you're very close to your family and might not be ready to move away completely and that's fine. There's no pressure for you to move in if you aren't ready. Just know that you can come and go anytime." Margaret watched as Molly seemed to contemplate her choices. "Don't worry about me and Richard. The house is big enough that you'll both have plenty of space. Not to mention, we're hardly here." With that Molly couldn't help but laugh.

"I don't mind. Honest." Turning to Charles she asked cheekily, "Does that mean you're finally gunna clear me some wardrobe space Bossman? Caz I don't think all me kit will fit in that poxy drawer you gave me." Margaret shook her head as Charles gave a yell and picked her up, dancing her around the room like a rag doll. Honestly those two. At least there will be no more Sunday night mope fests. Well at least not until Molly leaves for Africa. Now all Margaret had to do was corner her son and get to the bottom of his sudden shifty behaviour. Bless the boy for trying to get one past his mother. Too bad he failed.

**A/N: All rights belong to Tony Grounds and the BBC. As always, thank you for the continuing support for this story.**


	7. How Can You Be Sure?

How Can You Be Sure?

Margaret James shifted as she tried to get comfortable in bed. This was the second night in a row where she couldn't get to sleep and it was starting to piss her off. How is it that during the day when you actually have the energy to think and do things you can't, yet late at night when all you want to do is sleep, your mind decides to move a mile a minute and simply won't shut off? These long distance trips were all well and good but they played havoc with her sleeping patterns. The older she got, the worst the jet lag seemed to hit. After another few minutes of tossing and turning, Margaret huffed in annoyance and sat up, swinging her legs onto the floor. Maybe a cup of tea and a book would help. Glancing over her shoulder, she stared in envy as Richard lay snoring, oblivious to the rest of the world. Oh if only it were that easy. Moving as quietly as she could, careful to avoid the infamous creaking spots in the floorboards, Margaret made her way down the hallway and into the kitchen. Flicking the light switch Margaret jumped a mile when she saw a figure hunched over the kitchen counter, toying with a piece of paper.

"Jesus Christ Charles! You nearly gave me a heart attack! What on earth are you doing sitting there by yourself in the dark?" Margaret lent against the counter and placed a hand to her chest, where she could feel her heart pounded frantically against her ribcage. Charles smiled apologetically and she came to sit beside him. "Sorry mum, I didn't mean to frighten you." Margaret stared in concern as she watched Charles fingers tap nervously over the piece of paper on the table.

"What have you got there? Is that a letter from Molly? How is she doing?" Charles gave a sigh, his fingers pausing in their movements.

"No. I did get a letter through a few days ago but it was back dated over three weeks ago. I haven't heard from her since. No calls, no emails. Nothing. I tried skype but couldn't get through. She did say the last time we spoke that the weather had taken a turn and they were expecting it to get worse. She warned me that she might be out of contact for a while."

Margaret paused. "So if you aren't worried about Molly what are you worried about? Is it work? Did your meeting not go well?" Charles chuckled in amusement.

"I'm always worrying about Molly Mum. That girl can find trouble as easily as Sam can find an excuse not to do his homework. They're both out to give me grey hairs I swear. But no work is fine. Well, as fine as it can be. They've asked me if I would consider becoming an instructor down at Salisbury and help train the new recruits." Margaret stared thoughtfully at her son. She hadn't missed the way his fingers twitched slightly as though desperate to move. It was just like Charles to throw the cat amongst the pigeons then play it off as though it was no big deal.

"Are you going to do it?"

"Yeah I think I might. I miss it. Not necessarily the active duty but I miss the discipline, having a purpose. I think I could make a difference there."

"If it's what you want to do then you should do it. You never know it might be your calling. "Charles rolled his eyes. Honestly, where does she come up with this stuff? Margaret wasn't about to let him off easy though. She was determined to get to the bottom of what was bothering him. "Alright. Out with it, what's the matter?" Charles had resumed his earlier tapping, a habit he adopted whenever he was anxious or nervous about something. Margaret couldn't remember the last time she had seen him this wound up. Suddenly Charles stood up and began pacing the room restlessly, as if he hadn't heard Margaret's earlier question. Margaret watched her son pace quietly before her patience at his silence ran out. "Charles will you sit down! If you ruin my floor I won't hesitate to disinherit you." That brought Charles up short.

"Nice mum. It's nice to know where I stand in the pecking order. What is it, Dad, Sam, house then me?" Margaret smirked.

"It took me two excruciating years and the promise of going on one of those frightfully dull walking holidays to persuade your father to redo this kitchen. It's as much my baby as you are. Oh and it's your father, Sam, house, Molly THEN you my boy." Charles stared incredulously at his mother before shaking his head in mock disappointment as she laughed at her own joke. "So come on then, what is it? You've been acting odd for days." Charles held his mother's gaze for a few minutes before answering.

"You and Dad like Molly right?" completely thrown by the unexpected question, and the complete change in topic, Margaret stared at her son as if he had suddenly grown an extra head. "What the hell kind of question is that? Of course we love Molly. We think of her as part of the family, you know that. What's going on?" Biting his lip Charles regarded Margaret with uncertainty swimming in his eyes. "Well what if I was thinking of making Molly part of the family. Officially. Would that be alright?" Margaret's mouth dropped.

"You mean you're going to….are you? HA! I knew it!" Margaret clapped her hands in glee and beamed at the look of sheer relief on Charles' face. "Mum shush! You'll wake Dad."

"I don't care! Besides your father sleeps like the dead. You could probably Can Can around the room accompanied by the Core of Army Music band and he still wouldn't wake up. Oh this is wonderful! Have you got a ring yet? Have you thought about how you'll do it? When will you do it?" Charles laughed.

"Mum slow down. Yes I have a ring. Yes I know how I'm doing it and no I'm not going to tell you. I'm still figuring out when will be the best time to do it." Margaret pouted. "Ok fine keep your secrets. What I don't get is if that bit of paper you've been fiddling with all night isn't a letter from Molly then what is it?" Taking a breath Charles placed the paper in his pocket. "It's my speech." Margaret looked on in confusion.

"Speech? What speech?"

"I want to go up to London to ask Molly's dad for permission to marry Molly when she gets back from tour. I'm just not sure how to broach it. I've never been entirely sure of how to take Dave and I don't want to say the wrong thing. I know they haven't exactly had the best of relationships in the past, but I want to do this properly. Molly deserves that much."

"Ahhh." Margaret understood Charles' concerns. Having heard from Molly how troubled their relationship had been in the past and how ferocious their arguments used to be, Dave Dawes hadn't ranked very high in Margaret's estimation before they had met. Although she had got on well with Belinda and had found a fellow piss taker in Molly's Nan, the same couldn't be said of Dave. She had thought him lazy and opinionated and someone who was more than happy to sit back whilst everyone else did the hard work on his behalf. It was beyond her how he had failed to see how special Molly was. Well, until it was almost too late and he nearly lost her. At least now Dave seemed to have seen the error of his ways and was trying to mend fences.

"Well let me ask you this, would it stop you from asking Molly if he were to say no?" Charles shook his head, a look of determination on his face. "No I don't think it would." Margaret nodded.

"All you can do is be honest. At the end of the day Dave is still a dad who deep down, wants the best for his daughter. You need to go up there and do all you can to prove to him that you can be that for Molly. Show him that you love her and will look after her. That's all he wants. Though if I'm honest there's someone else you ought to be aiming to impress more than Dave." Margaret smirked lightly at the confused look on Charles's face. "Oh yeah, who's that then?"

"Molly's Nan."

Margaret couldn't help but chuckle as the blood drained from Charles' face. Though he'd never admit it aloud, Charles was slightly intimidated by Molly's Nan. She was a tough woman who'd led a colourful life. She didn't suffer fools and took no shit from anybody. Much like Margaret, she wasn't afraid to say what was on her mind and always told it to you straight, even if sometimes you didn't want to hear it. The two had taken an instant liking to each other after Nan had clocked that Charles had been the one responsible for Molly's new found confidence. She had pulled him aside and thanked him for believing in Molly and being there for her. She'd also mentioned something about holding Molly's hand as she moved up but Charles' hadn't understood what she was on about. Margaret remembered how shell shocked he had looked after he had returned from that first meeting. When Charles had confessed that Nan had always known Molly was special and she was glad that she now had someone who shared her opinion, Margaret knew she could get on with a woman like Nan. When Charles reluctantly admitted that Nan had threatened, quite cheerfully, to lob him off the M25 if he ever hurt Molly, Margaret had laughed aloud and knew instantly that her first instincts had been correct. Oh she and Nan would get on just fine alright. Her son though, had better watch out.

Margaret giving a sudden yawn, stood up and stretched, patting her son on the shoulder as he bit his lip in worry. Feeling slightly guilty that she had sent his nerves into overdrive, Margaret attempted to soften the blow as she exited the kitchen. "Right I'm off to bed. This jetlag is killing me. Just speak from your heart sweetheart. Throw in a bit of the old James charm and you'll be fine. Remember Dads can smell fear!" At Charles' glare Margaret laughed and couldn't help but go in for the kill. "Though do be a dear and warn me if I ever need to start watching for carpets when I'm on the M25 won't you." With that parting shot Margaret sent Charles a wink and left the kitchen, conscious of her son glaring daggers into her back.

Margaret stood pacing the living room, sending fleeting looks to the clock every now and then. My god why was time going so slowly? Surely it was longer than three minutes since she had checked the clock last. Charles should be back soon. She hoped his meeting with Dave had gone well. It had taken Charles nearly a month to pluck up the courage to travel up to London. In the end, Margaret, tired of his dilly dallying, had told him to man up and be the confident, commanding, cocksure man she had raised him to be.

Striding over to the window Margaret looked out onto the street. The weather had been glorious the last few weeks and the streets were lined with tourists wanting to get a glimpse of the famous Bath stone crescent in the sunshine. It was typical that they had been away whilst England had enjoyed the first warm spell of the year. Spotting a familiar figure stride along the pavement Margaret stood and watched as he walked confidently along to street. As though he could feel her eyes on him Charles raised his head to the window causing Margaret to swiftly jump back, letting the curtain fall back into place before she got caught. As she heard the front door slam Margaret dashed around the room trying to look busy. What to do? What to do? Ah ha! Spotting one of Molly's old magazines she grabbed it and sank into an arm chair pretending to read just as the door opened. She looked up meet a pair of amused brown eyes.

"Everything alright mum?" Charles asked.

"Of course sweetheart, why wouldn't it be?" Just act natural Margaret. You can do this.

"Well, I thought I saw you loitering by the window just now as I came in. You spying on the tourists again?" Margaret shot her son a look.

"Cheeky! I was just enjoying the sunshine is all. That, and I've been sat here quietly reading my magazine enjoying the peace." Margaret gestured to the open pages in her hand. She didn't miss the slight quirk of his eyebrow, nor the twitch of his lip as though he was fighting a smile.

"Oh you mean the magazine that you're reading upside down? Didn't know that was one of your hidden talents mum." Shit! She'd been busted.

"I'm a mother Charles. I have many hidden talents." Margaret watched as Charles' smile widened. Oh bugger it. Why did she even bother to lie? "Ok fine, so I was waiting for you to get back. I wanted to know how you got on. What's wrong with that?"

"Nothing I suppose." Charles came over and sunk into a chair, leaning his head against the back of the chair.

"So are you going to keep an old woman in suspense?" Margaret asked as she sat next to Charles. He turned his head towards her and gave her a soft smile. "You aren't that old mum." Margaret flicked his ear at his subtle jibe.

"The cheek of it. So how did it really go? You're still in one piece so that must be a good sign yes?"

"Yeah. It went well I think. Or as well as it could have gone. We went to the pub and had a chat over a few beers. Just as well really, I needed a few before I plucked up the courage to ask."

"How was he about it all?" Charles gave a bark of a laughter as he thought back to the events of the day. "He was a bit weary of me at first. It's rare I ever meet him without Molly or other family members being around so I think he was suspicious when I asked him to go alone. I think he'd sussed I wanted to ask sometime important. We made awkward small talk for a while but he could see I was nervous about something. When I finally confessed why I wanted to meet him he laughed and asked me if I was serious. When he saw I was he looked me square in the eye and asked me, quite bluntly might I add, why someone like me would want to be with and I quote a bird like my Molls?" Charles shook his head.

Margaret let out a quiet gasp, "He didn't!" Charles nodded as he continued his account of the day's events.

"He did. It pissed me off I can tell you. I told him straight. I explained that I love Molly and even though he didn't have a very high opinion of his daughter, I certainly did. I told him that I didn't care that she grew up on a council estate or that she didn't finish school. All that matters to me is the person she has become and she's a pretty amazing person from where I'm sitting. She's brave, intelligent, compassionate, and unbelievably strong. That's just the tip of the iceberg as to why I love Molly. Yeah ok she isn't perfect but who is? I know I'm not. We all make mistakes and screw up but I wouldn't change her for the world. I love Molly for who she is. She's who I want to spend my life with. All I want is to make her happy."

Margaret stared at her son in awe. She'd only ever heard him talk that openly about Molly once before, and that was when he had explained who she was and how their relationship had developed. To be that open and honest in front of Moly's dad had taken some balls. That's my boy!

"So what did he say to that?" Charles gave a laugh and shook his head.

"He just looked at me in silence for a minute. I swear, he did it on purpose. He could see how nervous I was. Then he smiled and nodded slightly reaching over to shake my hand. He said that both Nan and Belinda were right about me. They thought I was a good 'un who loved Molly for who she is and wouldn't try and change her into someone she wasn't. Then he wished me luck and told me I was going to need it if I was serious about marrying Molly."

"Ahh see, he does care you know. Maybe he just isn't good at showing his feelings openly." So maybe Margaret had been wrong about Dave. Perhaps he wasn't so bad after all.

"Yeah I know he cares. He certainly cares enough to threaten to break my kneecaps if I hurt Molly in anyway. As if. Have you seen how feisty she is? She's wear my balls for earrings if I did anything. I think the only thing that stopped her the last time was because I was her boss. Though I did have to bite my tongue and not blurt out that he'd probably hurt her more in the last few years than I ever could. In the end I promised him that I would do everything in my power to look after Molly and make her happy. I swore I'd do nothing to hurt her and that I'd treat her right. I think he was satisfied. He brought me a drink and welcomed me to the family."

Margaret when Charles had finished. She could understand the need to want to do anything and everything to keep your child safe. Although a bit late to the party, at least Dave was trying to make up for all the wrongs he had done. Margaret only hoped that he kept to his word and stood up and become a man for both his and his family's sake. "Is he going to tell Belinda and Nan do you know?" Charles shook his head. "No he said he wouldn't but you know how good Belinda is at making you talk. Plus, I think Nan had an inkling. She was shooting me funny looks all afternoon. Nothing gets past that woman. She'd be brilliant in an interrogation room. One look could send even the toughest man running for the hills. I see know where Molly gets her attitude from."

"Speaking of Molly, now everything is settled all you have to do is ask her." Charles gave a smile and began rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "Yeah I know. Now all I need to do is wait out and hope to god those cockwombles bring my Dawesy home in one piece." Margaret patted his knee in sympathy.

"Don't worry, she's tough. She'll be fine out there. The boys have got her back. Now can I see the ring?" Charles laughed at his mother's sly ways. He sent her a cheeky wink and shook his head.

"Sorry mother but the first person to see the ring will be Molly. You're just going to have to wait out. But don't worry I know you'll approve." Margaret sighed in irritation. If her son was so confident she would like it then why didn't he just bloody show it to her? Wait out indeed.

**A/N: All rights belong to Tony Grounds and the BBC. Thank you for the continuing support for this story. It's nice to hear so many are still enjoying it.**


	8. Breath (2 AM)

Breathe (2 AM)

Walking into the kitchen carrying a basket of freshly pruned roses, Margaret James paused when the doorbell rang. Who on earth could that be? Molly was away on tour Sam and Charles were at a rugby match and Richard was in the garden. Oh goodness! It better not be Carol with another idea for the Wednesday night book club. If she had to sit through another debate about whether or not 50 Shades of Grey was suitable literature she might just use it to clobber her round her annoyingly smug cake hole. Oh dear, there's Molly's influence surfacing again. Better reign that in before the next meeting. With a sigh Margaret placed the basket on the work top and dashed down the hallway to answer the door.

She let out a quiet curse as her gloved hands fumble with the latch. Oh honestly how many times have you done this? It's quite simple. All you need to do is kick, twist and pull. Ahh there we go. Finally managing to open the front door a slightly flustered Margaret was met with the grinning face of Molly Dawes, clad in her uniform. "Missed me?" she asked cheekily as Margaret eyed her appearance with concern. Recovering quickly, Margaret returned Molly's smile with one of her own.

"Indeed we have sweetheart. It's been far too quiet around here. Although, I think there is someone who missed you a whole lot more that we have." Margaret joked. Careful now Margaret. Act normal. Don't give anything away.

"Oh yeah? Who's that then?" Molly joked as Margaret pulled her into a tight hug, missing the wince Molly made as she squeezed too tight.

"Welcome home sweetheart. Have you come straight from Barracks? We weren't expecting you home for another week. Do your parents know your back? What about Charles? He's gone to the rugby. We'd have picked you up had we known you were coming."

"Yeah they do. I flew in a few days early so managed to get a weekend pass and went up to London before I went back to barracks. Sorry about knockin' I left me key behind. Think I'm a bit jetlagged. That or fragged. I'm all over the shop. Anyway, there were a few issues I had to sort out with me reports so I've been at barracks since yesterday. I thought I'd be able to finish me reports at home but the little bleeders had other ideas. Much as I love them, they were starting to do me nut in. Once there done then my leave can officially start. Thank fuck!" Margaret shook her head in mock disapproval as she led Molly into the kitchen.

"You missed them really."

Molly let out a snort. "Could you tell?" Margaret sent her a playful swipe with the tea towel.

"Cheeky! Richard's finishing some gardening. Those roses you planted came out lovely by the way. The weather's been rather pleasant recently so were out in the garden. Why doing you join him, off you go. Double away and I'll bring out some tea." Molly raised her arms in surrender and walked out the back door and settled herself in her favourite spot on the porch swing. Margaret sent a quick text to Charles as she busied herself preparing the tea. She placed a plate of rice crispy cakes she'd made with Sam the day before on the tray and followed Molly out onto the patio. She couldn't help but smile at how comfortable Molly looked as she settled herself on the porch swing. It had taken Molly time to get accustomed to life in Bath. In the beginning, she had been terribly self-conscious about what others would think of her and it took her a long time to feel relaxed enough to be herself. But if there was one thing Molly was good at it, it was winning people round with her sparkling wit and magnetism. Her relationships with both Sam and Rebecca were clearly testament to that.

It had taken Molly a long time to open up fully about her difficult childhood and her complicated relationship with her father. She had talked briefly about the tumultuous period after she had first joined up and how her decisions had nearly torn the family apart. Margaret knew that things had been steadily improving between father and daughter since her return from Afghan. Maybe the time apart had forced Dave to rethink his priorities a bit. He certainly seemed to be putting in more of an effort these days when Molly went back to visit. Although Molly knew now that Dave and Belinda were proud of her achievements, it still hurt her that they didn't understand that her experiences in Afghan had changed her. She wasn't a little girl any more. They couldn't even begin to understand some of the things she had seen and done which often resulted in Molly bottling everything up so she could deal with it alone. More often than not, Molly would retreat to Bath when things in London became too much, if she'd had a difficult time on exercise or after a tour.

Bath had provided Molly with the peace and space she often needed to get her head together and unwind. It also helped, that Charles was on hand to talk her down when things became difficult. Sure they fought like most couples do, usually about Molly's lack of faith in her abilities, but Charles had a knack for always knowing exactly what to say and do to help Molly regain her inner calm and keep her focused and grounded. Molly would often joke that talking to the James was saving her a fortune in therapy bills. Watching her now as she relaxed into the swing, Margaret had a feeling that Africa hadn't been easy on any of them and she'd need Charles to help her make sense of what went on out there. Molly had removed her boots and jacket and was sat in her combats and top with her feet tucked underneath her, staring pensively into the distance. Margaret was just about to ask Molly about the tour when Richard came strolling across the garden. Noticing a third cup in the tray he looking questioningly at his wife. "Look who's back Richard." Her husband's brow creased in confusion until Margaret jerked her head in the direction of the swing. Turning around Richard's face split into a grin when he saw Molly.

"Well well aren't you a sight for sore eyes Dawesy." Molly rolled her eyes good naturedly at the nickname as Richard lent down to ruffle her hair in greeting. Richard had overheard the lads calling her Dawesy during one of their first visits to Bath. Sometime later, after she had retreated to the garden to cool off after a disagreement with Charles, Richard had sought her out to check on her and tried to cheer her up. Since then the nickname had stuck, purely because Richard could see how much it wound Molly up. Today though, there was nothing but concern in his gaze as he regarded Molly. "Good grief young lady! Did you lose a fight with the guard gate again or was Africa as bad as it looks?" Richard asked as he took in Molly's appearance for the first time. Margaret closed her eyes in exasperation as her husband put his foot right in it. Did the man not know the meaning of the word subtlety? Molly let out a bark of laughter. "Does everyone know about that? It was one time! I normally know where the break and the accelerator are I swear!"

Chuckling softly Margaret reached out and hooked a finger under Molly's chin and gently raised her head so she could better study the solider in front of her. Margaret's keen eyes took a post-tour inventory of Molly's injuries, taking note of the dark circles under her eyes, the half healed gash on her forehead and lip as well as the array of blue and yellowed bruises that marred her tanned arms where she had rolled the sleeves of her top up. Had she lost weight? She definitely looked thinner since she had seen her last. "Are you alright? I thought the boys were supposed to bring you back in one piece not bring you home looking like you've gone three rounds with Mike Tyson." Noticing the worried glance Margaret shot Richard, Molly tried to put them both at ease.

"You wouldn't Adam and Eve how they looked last week. Mansfield could play dot to dot on me arms and legs. He managed to draw a smiley face, a pair of boobs and the plough constellation. He was well chuffed. Thank God he never found the sharpie. Could you imagine what those bunch of piss taking tossers would say then? It was bad enough when they found Charles' little message." Margaret looked confused for a second.

"Hold on, what message?" Molly blushed and suddenly became embarrassed. "He wrote I love you on my arm the night before I flew out to Africa. It's sort of our thing. He told me to look at it when things got tough and to remember how much he loves me and how proud he was that I was off being brilliant. Soppy sod!" Richard laughed at Molly's seemingly never-ending ability to take the piss out of his son. It was one of the things he had loved about Molly when they had first met over two years ago. Margaret however, noticed that Molly was becoming increasingly uncomfortable with the direction the conversation had taken and was trying to tactfully steer the conversation away from talk of the tour. She clearly wasn't ready to talk details. Her East End accent, usually more pronounced when she was either stressed, anxious, excited or angry, was considerably more noticeably since she had spent time back in London.

"Was it all bad?" Margaret asked tentatively.

Molly paused as she contemplated her answer, her fingers picking at the rice crispies in her lap. "No, at least not all of it. I thought Afghan was nice but Africa was full of gorgeous landscapes, breath-taking sunsets and amazing animals I've only ever seen in books or films and trees. Lots and lots of trees." Margaret raised her eyebrow in surprise at the way Molly pronounced the word trees. She'd never heard someone talk about nature with such distain. Before she could comment, Molly carried on. "I hate trees. They give me the willies." At that, both Margaret and Richard burst out laughing. "Sweetheart, you spend the majority of your time in Bath which is surrounded by trees. How can you not like them?"

"I dunno, I guess it's the creepy way the branches sway and look like they're movin'. Bit like those drunk geezers you find staggering down the Barking Road leering at ya late on a Friday night. They freak me out." Margaret shook her head. Oh Molly kept everyone on their toes alright. You were never quite sure what gem she would come out with next. Sensing the change in mood, Richard reached over and handed Molly another cake. "God I bloody missed me coco pops. Thanks for the care packages by the way, they were a God send." Richard smiled in understanding as he lent forward expectantly, a twinkle in his eye.

"So go on then, how long did it take them?" Molly snickered around a mouthful of coco pops.

"Fifteen minutes to blow it up. 10 Minutes to fill it up, five before they were all stark bollocks naked in it. Even the newbies were impressed." Margaret laughed as her mind conjured up the image of Two Section messing around in a paddling pool made for human's half their size. She was glad Molly had had some familiar faces watching her back on this deployment. She knew that Molly had serious concerns about her section's moral before they left. It was nice to know they were still able to make each other laugh and find humour in the darkest of times. Before Margaret could reply she was interrupted by an amused voice from behind them.

"Don't tell me those Cockwombles ruined another paddling pool of mine. The last time they decided to have a little impromptu pool party they split the bloody thing. I was waiting weeks for that and I only managed 10 minutes." Might gunna need to start charging them for the privilege ay Dawesy?" Before Charles had finished his sentence, he found himself with an armful of Molly Dawes. He chuckled as he hugged her back just as fiercely, before pulling her to him for a deep kiss. Margaret swore she heard him mutter a quiet "missed you" into Molly's hair, followed by a soft 'Ditto' in reply which caused Charles to grin widely. Gently pulling back Charles cupped Molly's face in his hands, her eyes fluttering shut as his thumbs gently ran over her cheek bones as he inspected her injuries. His eyes bored into hers silently asking a thousand questions in just one look. "I thought you said you were in one piece Dawes. You've got bags under your eyes the size of shopping trollies, you've lost weight and don't think I didn't feel you stiffen when I hugged you. You looked a damn sight better after you got blown up by a mine. What the hell happened out there. Are you hurt?" Charles's voice had taken on the stern authoritative tone he used to adopt when Molly was in for a right bollocking. Margaret knew that despite his tough talk, deep down, Charles was feeling guilty that he hadn't been there to protect Molly and keep her safe from harm.

"Bossman I'm fine really. It's a few bumps and bruises that's all. Nothing a nice soak and a massage won't fix." Molly replied. Charles started searchingly into Molly's eyes, clearly not believing Molly for a second. Realising it was time to make a tactful retreat Margaret stood up and sent Charles a meaningful look. "Right kids, I'm doing to make a start on dinner. Any preferences Molly?" Molly shook her head.

"I don't mind what we eat, anything beats rations." Molly joked weakly giving a light shiver at the sudden drop in temperature. The sun was slowly dipping between the trees indicating that summer was coming to an end.

Margaret nodded and picking up the throw that was placed on the back of the swing, gently draping it around Molly's shoulders. Placing a reassuring hand on Molly's shoulder she made her way inside. As she past Richard she caught his eye and gave a subtle nod towards the house. Taking the hint, Richard picked up the tray and followed his wife across the garden giving Molly and Charles the privacy they needed to have what was bound to be a difficult conversation.

Margaret awoke with a start. Staring at the ceiling she listened to the silence as she tried to work out what it was that had disrupted her sleep so unexpectedly. Hearing a creak outside, Margaret's ears perked up as she listened for any further sounds. She couldn't put her finger on it, but something just didn't feel right. Glancing at the clock blearily she groaned when she saw the digits flash 2.00am. Again? Margaret flicked on the lamp and reached for her dressing gown. Sliding her feet into her slippers she made her way onto the darkened landing. Edging her way slowly down the stairs and along the hallway Margaret paused outside the door to the sitting room.

Pushing the door open as quietly as possible, Margaret lent against the doorframe and watched Molly silently. Dressed in a pair of sleep shorts and wearing her West Ham shirt, Molly was sat on the floor with her legs pulled up to her chest and her chin resting on her folded arms. The warm fire bathed her features in a soft glow as Molly sat deep in thought, completely oblivious to Margaret's presence. Without a word, Margaret sat next to Molly and reached for the poker and gently stoked the flames, the quiet hissing and crackle of the logs the only sound in the otherwise silent room.

Margaret glanced sideways at Molly and asked quietly, "Can't sleep?" Molly shook her head. Since her arrival in Bath over a week ago, this was the third time that Margaret had caught Molly up in the middle of the night unable to sleep. After a few minutes of silence Margaret had almost given up on Molly answering when she spoke. "I can't get Africa out of me nut. I hear it every time I shut my eyes and I relive it over and over in my sleep." Margaret placed a calming hand on Molly's arm as she paused to organise her thoughts.

"You know from my letters that the weather got pretty bad the last few weeks. I've never seen rain like it. I thought it would never end. We were in this field hospital half way up a mountain that was only accessible by a narrow winding road that was more like a track than a road. The storms had blocked the road and taken out the power lines so the radios were useless, and the electricity had been cut off. The supply trucks couldn't get to us and our supplies were running dangerously low so we were assigned to try and clear the road. It was there where we met a small group of civilians who had been caught in the crossfire during a fight with some rebel soldiers in the area. It had taken them a couple of days to reach the hospital due to the weather. They were in pretty bad shape when they managed to get to us. At that point we had hardly any supplies and the high tech equipment we relied upon was useless without electricity." Molly took a deep breath as she paused. Margaret could see the distress in her eyes.

"One patient was screaming so loud due to the pain. We didn't have any anaesthetic and morphine was low. He was moving so much we couldn't stabilise him to treat his injuries. Do you know what we did? We used duct tape to secure him to the table so we could remove the bullets and treat the infection. Duct tape Margaret! I taped a patient to the table in the dark to treat him."

"Did he make it?" Margaret asked softly, slightly afraid of the answer but knowing Molly needed to say it aloud. Her heart sank when Molly shook her head.

"We didn't treat the infection in time. You know I thought I'd seen some horrifying things in Afghan. That marine's injuries on my first day were pretty horrific but watching him screaming and knowing there wasn't anything else we could do was unbearable. We tried to make him as comfortable as we could but you never forget watching the light go out of someone's eyes." Molly pushed her fingers roughly through her hair with a sigh as she returned her gaze to the flames. "I'm tired Margaret. I want to sleep but I'm afraid to. I don't want to see it anymore." Margaret reached over and pulled Molly into a hug as she ran a hand gently through her hair.

"I know sweetheart. It'll be ok just close your eyes." Margaret continued to stroke Molly's hair as she felt her breathing even out. Hearing the door creak open Margaret looked up to see Charles stood in the doorway. "She had another nightmare didn't she?" Margaret nodded smiling softly at the look of concern and love on Charles' face as he stared down at Molly. "Yeah she did. She said it was about what happened to one of her patients out in Africa." Charles nodded in understanding. "Yeah I know. We talked about it when we got back. It sounded like things got pretty rough out there. It's no wonder she was black and blue having to move around a hospital in the dark after climbing a mountain in a storm."

"Is that how she got her injuries?" Margaret asked.

"Well kink of. The area was flooded when they tried to see if they could get the roads unblocked to get the supply trucks through. She mentioned something about getting stuck under fallen trees with the lads. She likened it to attempting to play twister in a swimming pool."

"Well that's going to do wonders for her love of trees isn't it?"

"Don't I know it. Hay Mum. Thanks."

"For what love?"

"For being there for Molly. For letting her talk about what happened. For listening. She doesn't let many people in you know. Prefers to do it on her own. I'm just glad she feels comfortable enough to open up to you is all. Thanks for making her feel like that. It means a lot to me. To Molly." Margaret smiled and kissed Charles' cheek. "You're welcome love. Now you better get this one off to bed. You both need the sleep. You've a busy few weeks ahead of you." Charles smirked knowingly.

"What and carry sleeping beauty up three flights of stairs. No chance. She's like a sack of potatoes when she's a sleep. Think I'll leave her here. If I wake her now I'll never here the end of it. Plus she snores." Margaret giggled as she watched Charles lovingly place a throw over Molly and add another log to the fire. Oh her son was in trouble tomorrow. "I'm going to tell her you said that." Charles looked offended as he pushed his mother out of the door, closing it quietly behind him. "Yeah but if you do that then she'll kill me. If she kills me then she won't become your daughter in law. We both know you wouldn't jeopardise that. Sometimes I think you like her more than me."

"well I won't argue with you there." Margaret replied cheekily, throwing Charles a wink for good measure as he walked her up the stairs.

**A/N: Have no fear the proposal is coming. I've had this chapter written on my laptop for a while and felt it would fit in nicely to help fill in some of the gaps in the events leading up to A Request. Sorry for the dely i've been on R&R this weekend. Hope you enjoy please R&R.**

**title based on the Song Breathe by Anna Nalick **


	9. Even Fairy Tale Characters get Jealous

Even Fairy Tale Characters Would Be Jealous

"Home sweet home." Margaret gave a sigh of relief as Richard shut the front door behind them, dropping their suitcases on to the wooden floor with a dull thud. Their flight home from Lake Garda had been delayed and they had finally left Italy three hours later than planned. It was nearing midnight and Margaret was tired, irritated and in desperate need of a cup of tea before going to bed. Noticing that the door to the living room was open, Margaret poked her head into the room and noticed Molly's laptop and medical reports scattered on the living room table. Ah so she'd finally finished them then. Maybe now she can finally relax and have some much needed R and R. I wonder if she'd like another spa day? It couldn't hurt to ask. Margaret's attention was drawn to the fireplace where the last dying embers of a fire flickered and crackled in the grate. That's odd. Charles never leaves the fire burning no matter how low the flames were. Moving further into the room Margaret was surprised to find Molly and Charles sleeping entwined around one another on the sofa under a blanket.

"Is it safe to get any closer?" Richard joked from the doorway. Margaret, who had been quietly observing the couple on the sofa, turned and slapped Richard's arm and sent him a glare. "Oh honestly Richard. Must you be so crude?" Richard chuckled as he watched the sleeping soldiers for a few minutes before gently wrapped an arm around Margaret's shoulders and towed her towards the doorway. "Come on, lets leave them be. This is the first time I've seen Molly sleep peacefully since she got back from Africa. I sure as hell don't want to be the one who pokes the sleeping bear with a stick. Laughing at the absurd image Margaret stopped dead in her tracks and looked back over her shoulder with a contemplative look on her face. Hearing his wife gasp Richard looked at Margaret oddly. "What is it?" Out of nowhere, a brilliant smile lit up Margaret's face as she gently began pushing Richard towards the door all the while trying desperately to stifle her giggles at Richard's protests as he tried, and failed, to be quiet. She might as well have started dancing the Macarena naked at the strange look Richard was giving her when she finally released his arm in the hall. "Margaret, what on earth is wrong with you? Why are you grinning like the Cheshire cat?" Finally getting her giggles under control Margaret smiled up at her husband. "You mean you didn't see it darling?" Richard stared in confusion. He knew he shouldn't have let her have those Martini's on the plane. "See what? I don't understand."

"Molly's hand." Richard's eyebrows disappeared into his hairline as he wracked his brain as he tried to remember if he saw Molly's hand. "What about it? Did she get a manicure? You know how good she is at doing nails, you get her to do yours all the time. She saves you a small fortune." Margaret stared at her husband in disbelief. Did she have to spell it out? "He did it Richard." Richard made a gesture with his hand to indicate that Margaret should continue to enlighten him further. Margaret gave an impatient sigh. Maybe she needed to spell it out after all. "He finally asked her. How could you miss the ring on her finger? Charles asked Molly to marry him and she obviously said yes." Margaret finished excitedly, her eyes sparkling with happiness as she watched her husband process the information before explaining loudly, "Well thank God for that! I don't know how much longer I could have kept that to myself. You know how bad I am at keeping secrets. I've been avoiding conversing with her for weeks in case I let something slip."

"Shuhhhh! You'll wake them up." Margaret whispered. She knew it had been tough for Richard to keep that from Molly. It had gotten to the point where Richard had become reserved and quiet and could barely look her in the eye for fear of spilling the beans. Molly had started to worry that she had done something to offend him. They were interrupted by a sleepy voice coming from the doorway. "What's going on?" Oh bugger! Busted.

In sync both Margaret and Richard turned and looked guiltily at Charles who stood leaning against the door frame with an eyebrow raised. Molly, wrapped in a throw and half obscured by Charles' body, poked her head out from around his arm. "You two look like a pair of teenagers who have been caught sneakin' in past curfew. What have you been up to ay? You both need to work on your volume. Your "whisper voices" as Sam calls them are a bit shit." Margret sent Richard a glare as she tried to work out what to say. Had they been caught out?

"How long have you two been stood there?" Margaret sent a sideways glance at Molly whose left hand carefully hidden under the throw. "We've only just got in," she replied defensively looking to her husband for support. "Haven't we Richard?" Richard nodded, his eyes trailed resolutely on Charles who looked like he was enjoying their discomfort a little too much. Wait a minute. Why were they the ones acting like they'd been caught with their hand in the biscuit tin? They haven't got anything to hide. Deciding to change tack Margaret looked up and smiled sweetly at her son, sending him a knowing look. "Have you both had a good evening? Quiet night in was it?" Molly caught Charles's eye and they started at each other silently communicating with their eyes. How did they do that? Sometimes it felt as though they had an entire conversation with just a few glances. Finally Molly gave a slight nod of her head, both sporting identical goofy grins. With a jerk of his head Charles gestured for Margaret and Richard to come back into the sitting room. As they settled themselves on the sofa Charles took Molly's hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

"Mum, Dad. Molly and I have something we want to tell you." Margaret feigned concern as her eyes flitted back and forth between the two. "What is it? Is everything alright?" There we go, act natural. The trick is to find the right balance of surprise when they tell you. Don't overdo it. Molly was quick to jump in. "No nothing's wrong honest. It's good news really. Well I hope you'll think it's good news. I don't know, maybe you won't." Molly trailed off nervously and looked to Charles for reassurance. Will someone just tell us already! I'm not sure how much longer I can keep this up. Charles sensing the air of frustration finally put them out of their misery. Taking a deep breath he spoke. "Last night I asked Molly to marry me." Yes! I knew it! Wait a minute, what did she say? Focus Margaret. "She said yes!" Margaret let out a cry of joy as she leapt forward and enveloped both Molly and Charles in a hug. "Oh congratulations. I'm so please for you both. It's wonderful news." Richard came forward and hugged Molly. "Welcome to the family Dawesy. I'm glad we haven't scared you off." Molly laughed as Charles kissed her temple.

"Nah I think I'll manage. After growing up with my lot and being around the lads, I'm ready for anything me." Richard grinned. Oh he knew this one was a keeper right from the off. "I think this is cause for a bottle of Champaign." With that Richard disappeared towards the kitchen. Bugger the Champaign I want details. The booze can wait. "Can I see the ring? Charles wouldn't let me see it." Charles rolled his eyes as Molly untucked her hand from under the throw and extended it towards Margaret. Oh my. Her son certainly had good taste. "It's beautiful Molly." The novo style ring featured a gorgeous square cut diamond in a claw setting that if Margaret had to guess, must be at least 2 carats. It was nestled in a tapered bead set band. The diamond twinkled in the light as Molly moved her hand back and forth to admire her new piece of jewellery. It was simple and elegant. Perfect for Molly's tastes. Her boy did good. As Richard came in carrying glasses and a bottle of Champaign Margaret couldn't help pressing for more details as she helped him hand them out.

"So go on then. How did you do it? You wouldn't believe how secretive he's been about it all Molly. He wouldn't tell us a thing. Would he Richard?" Richard chuckled as he winked at Molly and Charles. "Don't mind Margret Molly. She's just miffed that Charles kept her in the dark about how was going to propose. He didn't even show her what the ring looked like. You know how she loves to gossip. Though I too am intrigued to hear how he did it, if only to find out who won our little bet. Margaret thought you might have taken Molly on a romantic stroll in the park but seeing how you aren't too fond of trees, I thought Charles might have taken you for a romantic meal. Maybe cloisters?" Molly laughed at their suggestions as Charles shook his head at his parents. "Well I hope neither of you put money on it because you are both wrong." Margaret gave a sigh of relief. At least they had both got it wrong. She'd never hear the end of it if Richard had been right. Well come on then how did you do it my boy?

"Did we ever tell you about the Rosabaya episode out in Afghan?" Charles asked. Margret shook her head. What did coffee have to do with anything? Noticing the odd looks his parents were shooting him, Charles continued. "Well just before Molly was due to leave for R&R I came ad found her in the med tent. My feelings had started to move beyond just being her CO by then and I was slightly worried something would happen when she went home. So I had to think on my feet a bit to ensure she had something to remember me by." Molly looked at Charles in surprise.

"You never told me that." Charles looked slightly embarrassed as he grinned sheepishly at Molly.

"I couldn't say anything outright could I? I had hoped you'd be able to read between the lines and see how I felt about you. Anyway, I said I had a request of her and sent her on a mission to Regent Street to get me some Rosabaya capsules. I wrote the word on her arm so she wouldn't forget and made her promise to come back to me." Margaret smiled as Charles recalled the moment the dynamics of their relationship changed. As she watched Charles gently brushed a finger along Molly's arm where four words were written in black ink. Leaning forward Margaret gasped as she read the words. "Will you marry me?" She whispered to herself as she looked up to see Molly smiling softly. "That's how he did it? He wrote it on your arm? How romantic." Molly nodded happily.

"Yeah. It kind of was. He came waltzing in whilst I was finishing me reports, all confident and cocksure and says Dawes I have a request just like he did in the FOB. I knew he was up to something. We'd only just brought some capsules so I knew we hadn't run out. He got down on one knee and started writing on my arm. He never said a word mind. He was so cool and calm. Though his hand started to shake towards the end. Me heart was pounding so loud I thought me chest was going to explode. God knows how he felt. Come to think of it you haven't technically asked me Bossman." Molly looked at Charles cheekily as his mouth dropped open in shock.

"Seriously Dawes?"

"Well you are one for bein' all proper and traditional an that ain't ya? I mean you went an asked me dad for heaven sakes." Margaret caught Molly's eye and sent her a wink. With a sigh Charles stood up and held his hand out to Molly. She took off her ring and handed it back to him as he got down on one knee. Clearing his throat nervously Charles focused in on Molly's grinning face, completely oblivious to the fact that Margaret had snuck out her phone to record the proposal. Ohhh Facebook moment. With a slight tremor Charles asked, "Molly Dawes, will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?" Molly burst into giggles as she nodded.

"Yes you muppet. Of course I will." With a sigh Charles pulled her in for a kiss as he placed the ring back on her finger. "For a minute there I wasn't sure you were going to do it Bossman." Laughing Charles replied "Yeah well, lucky for you I'd do pretty much anything for you. I'd even make a prize pranet of myself in front of my parents. It's a good job I love you Dawes." Molly kissed him again and whispered "Ditto."

"Ahh I think I toast is in order." Margaret handed Richard his glass as he stood in front of them. Her earlier tiredness completely forgotten. Fuelled by adrenaline and happiness she was sure she wouldn't be able to sleep even if she tried.

"To Charles and Molly, congratulations. May you have many happy years together."

"Cheers!" The four clinked glasses.

"Oh by the way Mum, that little video is not going on Facebook. You're banned remember. If it weren't for the fact your navigational skills were so shit and you keep getting lost, you wouldn't even have a phone. Much less such a technical one. You're a menace."

"Oh honestly, It was just a bit of fun. It's not my fault she couldn't see the funny side. I was never going to send it." Seeing Molly's confused face Richard filled her in. "At their last book club meeting Carol, who likes to boast of her royal connections to anyone who will listen, decided it would be fun to read Fifty Shades of Grey. In revenge Margaret stole her phone and replaced her contacts with names of celebrities and royalty. At the next meeting, in front of the whole group, Margaret rang her impersonating the Queen. The poor woman sat there thinking she was having a 20 minute conversation with her Majesty and not realising Margaret was in fact in the next room on the other end pissing herself and recording the whole thing. She did try for Barack Obama next but got rumbled on the American accent. Carol wasn't best pleased." Molly snorted with laughter as Margaret blushed in embarrassment. "Oh I might gunna have to tell Nan that one. I can image her doin that to Shazza. Bloody brilliant."

"Thank you dear. I'm glad someone appreciates my humour and is on my side. Stick with me and you'll go far in this family my girl. You're well and truly part of the fold now. You've already been privy to a James tradition." Margaret winked at Molly as she and Charles shared a knowing look. Molly looked back and forth between the two clearly confused. "What's going on? What tradition? Oh God it ain't a cult is it?" Margaret burst into laughter as Charles shook his head in exasperation at Molly's overactive imagination.

"No Molls. Mum's referring to the way I proposed. It's sort of a family tradition."

"What the arm writing? I thought that tradition was started by Sam in the hospital?"

"It was. Who do you think showed him?"

"How did it start then?" Molly tucked her feet underneath her as she waited for Charles to tell the story. She loved it when he shared little anecdotes about his life with Sam. "I've been deployed on and off for most of Sam's life. The first time, he was barely a year old and didn't understand what was going on or had any idea I was away probably. By the time I got home he was walking. Nothing could prepare me for the immense guilt I felt at missing out on such a monumental milestone in his life. The next time, he was much older and was able to understand what it meant when I left.

"Poor Sam. How did you handle that Boss? It couldn't have been easy." Charles smiled reassuringly at Molly. "It wasn't but we made the best of it. The night before I would leave we'd spend that last hour or so before Sam went to bed together. It was our father son bonding time. Strictly no girls aloud. We'd build a fort in Sam's room out of blankets and cushions and spend the night playing games, telling stories and sharing secrets by torch light. It was never anything too serious; I'd make Sam promise to listen to Rebecca, tidy his room and try hard and do his homework at school. I don't think he fully grasped what was going on but enjoyed the idea of being the man of the house. All he really knew was that Daddy had to go away without him and he was petrified that I would never come back. He took some convincing and became quiet unsettled and refused to go to sleep. In the end I found a pen and wrote I love you on Sam's arm and told him to look at it whenever he got sad and remember that Daddy would be with him. The last few times I deployed, Sam would write his own message on my arm just like in the hospital. It would usually rub off so I'd re-write it on the plane home so he wasn't disappointed. It kind of became our own secret form of communication that nobody knew about except us." Margaret sniggered into her glass of Champaign.

"Yes well that was until they accidently wrote on each other in Sharpie." Molly's mouth dropped before she threw her head back and laughed. "How did you explain that to Rebecca?" Charles winced. "With great difficulty, I can assure you. It wouldn't come off for days. She nearly tore me a new one after that."

"I bet she did." Margaret smiled in sympathy. They all knew that Molly had been on the receiving end of Rebecca's temper and knew first hand just how ferocious she could be when riled. "So it was you who started this tradition then?" Richard chuckled as three sets of eyes fell on him. "Actually, thinking about it, I think I'm guilty of starting it." Molly looked at him with interest. "I don't know I'd you've noticed but Charles has always had a thing for words, poems and stories, ever since he was a little boy." Molly sent Charles a smirk. Oh yes it was clear she knew about his love of poetry alright. "He'd devour books and spend hours emerging himself in imaginary worlds and learning the meaning behind new words to extend his vocabulary. Whenever I used to go away on business trips I'd recommend a new book for him to try. I'd write the title of the book on a slip of paper and I'd write a new word on his arm to find. He had until I got back to read the book and try and find the meaning of the word so he could tell me all about it when I got home."

Margaret smiled fondly as she recalled all the hours she spent with Charles tucked away in the library reading stories from far- away places and pieces of poetry he had a knack for learning off by heart. They'd read Dylan Thomas, Wordsworth, Burns, Browning, Shakespeare. Charles was forever reading extracts aloud, sometimes laughing as he stumbled over the rhythm of the verses and trying to figure out how to slip his new word into as many conversations as he could. It's funny but of the countless stories they had read together, it was the poetry that he had remembered the most.

"Ahh so that's where your love of big words and poetry came from then Bossman?" Molly joked as she took it all in. "You wouldn't believe how much time he spent trying to get us to enjoy poetry out on tour. He even made us sit through poetry evenings an all. Though I admit, I quite liked that Welsh bloke though, an Shakespeare weren't so bad either I suppose." Charles grinned in triumph.

"See I knew you'd come around to poetry eventually." Molly rolled her eyes as she grinned at him.

"Whatever you say Bossman, Whatever you say." Margaret sat back and just let their banter flow back and forth. She was forever grateful that Charles had found someone as easy going and quick witted as Molly. She doubted that neither of them would have predicted how their story would have played out when they met on the tarmac at Brize all those years ago. Just like in a fairy tale they had their fair share of ups and downs before they got their happy ending. As a sudden thought occurred she nearly choked on her drink as she burst into giggles.

"Mum you alright?" Margaret waved a hand as she tried to get her breath back.

"Yeah I'm fine. Just thinking that your proposal could have come out of the pages of a Fairy Tale. It's so romantic even the characters would be jealous. That is until I realised that if you look at your story in Fairy Tale terms technically Molly turned out to be the White Knight and Charles was the Damsel in distress who needed to be rescued by a dashing prince. I just had a sudden image of Charles in a princess dress wearing a tiara riding behind Molly on a big white stead and I got a fit of giggles. I'm sorry I think the jet lag and lack of sleep has finally caught up with me." The room was silent as the occupants processed what she had just said. For a split second the room was so silent you could hear a pin drop, before everyone burst into giggles. Molly was the first to catch her breath. "Ahh I can't breathe I'm definitely going to have to tell the lads that one when I get back Bossman."

"Don't you dare Dawes. That's an order."

"ohh what you gunna do Boss? Get your Fairy Godmother to turn me into a pumpkin?" At that Molly burst into laughter again. Charles shot a glare at his mother. Margaret grinned innocently at her son as she fought to get her giggles under control. As he caught her eye she could see he was fighting not to smile. He knew when he first met Molly what she could tear you apart with her quick tongue and sharp wit. As Charles watched as Molly and Richard fell into hysterics, Margaret knew that no matter what was to happen, Charles wouldn't change their relationship for the world. Together they would write their own fairy tale; everyone would just have to sit back and play their roles as they threw the rule book out the window along the way.

**A/N:**

**All Rights belong to Tony Grounds and the BBC. Thanks to everyone who continues to review and comment on this story. It is always appreciated. For those of you who have been wondering who Margaret is like, I was watching an episode of Miranda and it suddenly hit me that I pictured Margaret a bit like Miranda's mum Penny. I hadn't intended her to be that way but I love their banter and her humour and eccentric ways. **


End file.
